UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 


FROM   THfc    LIBRARY    Ol 

BENJAMIN  PARKE  AVERY. 


GIFT  OF  MRS.  AVERY, 

* 

Accessions  No.  toviotf'Y       (^Lns  No. 


PASSAGES  FROM  THE  LIFE 


OP 


CHARLES  KNIGHT. 


"  PAST  and  FUTURE  are  the  wings, 
On  whose  support,  harmoniously  combined, 
Moves  the  great  spirit  of  human  knowledge." 

WORDSWORTH. 


[Mr.] 


UiriVBRSITT 


NEW  YORK 


G.  P.   PUTNAM'S   SONS, 

1874. 


in* 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  In  the  year  1874,  by 

G,  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS, 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


LANGB,  LITTLE  &  Co., 

PRINTERS, 

108  TO  114  WOOSTKR  STREET,  N.  Y. 


PREFACE. 


N  1862  I  received  an  intimation  from  the 
proprietor  of  the  "Windsor  and  Eton  Ex 
press,"  that,  on  the  following  first  of 
August,  the  newspaper  so  called  would 
have  completed  the  fiftieth  year  of  its  publication. 
The  fact  was  an  interesting  one  to  me.  That  news 
paper  was  established  by  my  father  and  myself ;  my 
proprietary  interest  in  it  lasted  for  fourteen  years ; 
and  I  continued  to  be  its  editor  till  the  end  of  1826, 
as  I  had  been  from  its  commencement. 

Looking  back  upon  the  August  of  1812,  at 
which  time  my  working  life  really  commenced,  it 
occurred  to  me  that  there  were  passages  of  that 
working  life  of  fifty  years  which  might  have  an 
interest  for  a  wider  circle  than  that  of  my  family 
and  my  immediate  friends,  if  presented  without 
the  tedious  egotism  of  a  formal  Auto-Biography. 
During  that  period  my  social  position  has  not 
materially  altered,  and  I  have  not  had  the  advan 
tage  of  seeing  "  life  in  many  lands."  I  have  there 
fore  no  startling  incidents  to  relate,  and  no  great 
variety  of  scenes  to  describe.  My  occupation  has 

A  2 


iv  PREFACE. 

been  that  of  a  publisher  and  a  writer.  But,  in 
the  course  of  my  long  connection  with  the  Press 
(I  use  this  word  in  its  most  extended  meaning),  I 
have  been  brought  into  communication  with  many 
eminent  persons,  and  have  been  somewhat  exten 
sively  mixed  up  with  vast  changes  in  the  social 
condition  of  the  people,  in  the  progress  of  which 
elementary  education  and  popular  literature  have 
been  amongst  the  most  efficient  instruments  of 
amelioration. 

But  before  I  start  upon  a  long  journey — broken, 
however,  into  several  stages, — it  may  give  a  com 
pleteness  to  my  narrative  if  I  put  together  some 
earlier  Reminiscences  of  circumstances  by  which  I 
was  surrounded,  from  the  beginning  of  the  century, 
in  my  childhood  and  my  advance  to  manhood.  The 
first  steps  of  self-formation  are,  I  think,  always 
interesting -to  follow,  however  uneventful  may  be 
the  subsequent  career  of  an  individual.  But  my 
early  days  at  Windsor  have  a  wider  interest,  as 
they  made  me  familiar  with  the  outward  manifes 
tations  of  the  simple  life  of  George  the  Third  and 
his  Court — a,n  old-fashioned  life  of  publicity,  which 
wholly  passed  away  in  the  seclusion  of  the  next 
reign,  when  the  King  was  seldom  seen  by  his  people, 
much  less  liring  among  them  in  a  sort  of  family 
intimacy,  such  as  I  had  looked  upon  from  my 
humble  point  of  observation.  In  1810,  the  regal 
aspect  of  Windsor  was  wholly  changed  by  the 
illness  of  the  King.  In  1812,  when  I  put  on  the 


PREFACE.  r 

responsibilities  of  full  age,  the  Regent  was  invested 
with  unrestricted  power.  There  never  was  a  more 
eventful  period  in  the  history  of  our  country  than 
the  first  twelve  years  of  the  Nineteenth  Century. 
They  were  calculated  to  produce  a  strong  and 
abiding  impression  upon  the  mind  of  a  thoughtful 
youth,  whose  local  associations  were  suggestive  of 
past  dangers  and  triumphs — of  the  Blenheim  of 
Anne  and  the  Crecy  of  Edward.  Moreover,  as  I 
advanced  towards  manhood,  there  was  an  outburst 
of  literature,  which  stirred  my  spirit  with  a  new 
power.  If,  in  recording  my  impressions  of  this 
memorable  era,  I  should  be  able  to  recal  some  of 
the  enthusiasm  of  the  passing  time,  I  may  not  be 
without  the  hope  of  imparting  an  interest  to  the 
Reminiscences  of  a  solitary  boy  and  an  obscure 
young  man. 

The  half-century  of  active  employment  which  I 
look  back  upon  is  divided,  in  my  retrospection,  into 
three  epochs.  I  shall  regard  them  as  stages  in  my 
journey  of  life ;  not  always  caring  thus  to  measure 
my  progress  by  any  extreme  nicety  of  dates  ;  and  not 
suddenly  halting  when  the  interest  of  a  subject  carries 
me  forward  to  its  natural  close. 

I.  From  1812  to  the  end  of  1822,  my  chief  occu 
pation  was  that  of  a  journalist  at  Windsor.  But 
my  duties  were  not  wholly  limited  to  that  narrow 
range,  although  in  tracing  my  course  as  the  editor 
of  a  local  paper  I  may  regard  some  circumstances  as 
of  peculiar  interest.  The  political  aspects  of  that 


ri  PREFACE. 

period  are  not  pleasant  to  review ;  when  the 
thoughtful  man  saw  as  much  to  be  apprehended 
from  an  unsympathising  Government  as  from  a  dis 
contented  people.  In  1820  I  made  my  first  attempt 
in  publishing  a  Cheap  Miscellany ;  and  I  have  to  esti 
mate  what  Popular  Literature  was,  at  a  period  when 
the  majority  looked  upon  Books  for  the  Many  as  a 
very  dangerous  experiment  in  giving  a  direction  to 
the  newly-diffused  art  of  reading.  At  this  period, 
also,  of  strong  political  excitement,  I  was  induced  to 
accept  the  editorship  of  a  London  Weekly  News 
paper.  My  area  of  observation  was  thus  somewhat 
enlarged.  My  aim  was  to  make  "The  Guardian"  as 
much  a  literary  as  a  political  paper ;  and  I  thus  in 
cidentally  acquired  a  familiarity  with  the  Periodical 
Literature  of  a  time  when  Magazines  were  becoming 
more  original  and  more  influential.  I  also  gained 
some  insight  into  the  general  commerce  of  books  in 
that  closing  era  of  high  prices.  During  this  period 
one  of  the  pleasantest  occupations  of  my  Windsor 
life  opened  to  me,  as  the  printer  and  publisher  of 
"The  Etonian."  This  circumstance  led  to  my  in 
tercourse  with  that  most  remarkable  knot  of  Cam 
bridge  students  who  became  the  chief  contributors 
to  "  Knight's  Quarterly  Magazine."  It  may  be  suffi 
cient  to  mention  the  names  of  Macaulay,  Praed, 
Sidney  Walker,  Henry  Nelson  Coleridge  (of  these  I 
may,  unhappily,  speak  without  reserve),  and  add 
those  of  Derwent  Coleridge,  Henry  Maiden,  and 
John  Moultrie,  to  give  an  abiding  interest  to  such 


PREFACE.  rii 

remembrances.  "The  Quarterly  Magazine  "  chiefly 
led  to  my  establishment  as  a  London  publisher  in 
the  season  of  1823.  Through  this  year,  and  in 
1824,  I  was  occupied  in  the  literary  and  commercial 
management  of  that  work,  which  was  concluded  after 
the  publication  of  six  numbers.  A  second  series  was 
subsequently  undertaken ;  but  this  attempt  at  a 
revival  was  of  too  solid  a  character  fitly  to  succeed 
its  brilliant  predecessor.  •  . :  ; 

II.  I  had  been  gradually  extending  my  field  of 
business  as  a  publisher  of  Miscellaneous  Books,  and 
was  not  without  the  support  of  persons  of  reputation 
and  influence.  Yet  my  experience  of  the  risk  of 
miscellaneous  publishing  became  in  a  year  or  two 
somewhat  discouraging.  In  1826,  I  had  to  struggle, 
in  common  with  many  others  of  my  craft,  against 
the  depression  in  value  of  all  literary  property.  But 
in  this  period  of  difficulty  I  was  endeavouring  to 
mature  several  plans  for  wholly  and  systematically 
devoting  myself  to  cheap  Popular  Literature.  Some 
of  the  seed  thus  prepared  was  ultimately  sown. 

In  1827  I  became  connected  with  the  Society  for 
the  Diffusion  of  Useful  Knowledge ;  and  soon  after 
edited  and  published  "  The  British  Almanac "  and 
"  Companion,"  and  "  The  Library  of  Entertaining 
Knowledge."  Through  twenty  years — until,  indeed, 
the  Society  thought  that  the  time  was  come  when 
individual  enterprise  would  accomplish  all  that  they 
had  attempted — I  was  more  or  less  connected  with 
this  memorable  Association.  My  remembrances  will 


viii  PREFACE. 

embrace  whatever,  without  violation  of  confidence, 
may  be  related  of  this  connection.  I  need  not  here 
particularise  the  eminent  persons  with  whom  I  was 
brought  into  contact,  in  carrying  forward  the  works 
which  were  entrusted  to  my  care  as  Publisher,  and 
in  several  cases  as  Editor.  Other  important  works 
were  undertaken  by  me  without  the  support  of  the 
Society's  reputation.  I  availed  myself — perhaps 
more  than  most  of  the  publishers  of  that  period — of 
the  revived  process  of  wood-engraving,  to  diffuse 
popular  Art  as  well  as  popular  Literature.  In  this 
species  of  enterprise  "The  Penny  Magazine"  led  the 
way.  "The  Pictorial  Bible"  was  the  most  successful 
of  the  more  permanent  class  of  such  publications  ; 
the  "Thousand  and  one  Nights"  was  the  most 
beautiful.  The  "Pictorial  History  of  England"  was 
followed  by  the  "Pictorial  Shakspere,"  which  was 
the  most  congenial  undertaking  of  my  literary  life ; 
and  then  by  the  "London."  This  series  of  years, 
which  brought  with  them  unabated  literary  labour 
and  most  anxious  commercial  responsibility,  were 
not  without  their  enjoyments  of  pleasant  and  remu 
nerating  work.  They  afforded  me  the  consolation 
that  I  was  performing  a  public  good,  when  I  bore 
up,  unaided,  under  the  heavy  load  of  "  The  Penny 
Cyclopaedia,"  overweighted  by  taxation.  This  was 
the  most  busy  and  the  most  interesting  period  of 
my  working  life  ;  and  its  interest  is  heightened 
beyond  measure  to  myself  by  the  consideration  that 
this  epoch  was  the  great  turning-point  in  our  poll- 


PREFACE.  ix 

tical  and  social  history ;  that  it  was  a  period  of 
wonderful  progress ;  and  that  many  of  the  distin 
guished  men  with  whom  I  was  associated  can  never 
be  separated,  by  the  future  historian,  from  the 
course  of  that  peaceful  revolution  which  has  made 
the  institutions  of  the  country  in  harmony  with 
the  advance  of  intelligence,  and  has  identified  the 
interests  and  the  wishes  of  the  rulers  and  of  the 
nation.  In  this  period,  also,  I  became  officially  con 
nected,  as  a  Publisher,  with  those  who  originated  and 
carried  forward  the  Amendment  of  the  Poor-Law 
and  other  cognate  reforms;  and  I  was  thus  neces 
sarily  called  upon  to  give  a  close  attention  to  the 
principles  and  practical  working  of  measures  which 
have  so  materially  improved  the  Condition  of  the 
People. 

III.  My  third  epoch  is  one  of  comparative  repose. 
I  edited  and  published  the  extensive  series  of  the 
"Weekly  Volume."  I  had  opportunities  of  seeing 
much  of  the  actual  condition  of  the  country  in 
editing  "  The  Land  we  Live  in,"  during  the  transi 
tion  period  of  Free  Trade.  I  assisted  as  Publisher 
in  the  great  sanitary  measures  which  had  assumed 
fresh  importance.  Gradually  I  withdrew  from  any 
novel  undertakings  involving  considerable  risk ;  for 
I  found  that  the  new  competition  of  excessive  cheap 
ness,  without  regard  to  the  quality  of  the  reading 
made  cheap,  was  not  suited  to  the  habits  in  which 
I  had  been  so  long  trained.  But  I  had  still  to 
look  for  happiness  in  work.  I  had  to  become  more 


*  PREFACE 

a  writer  and  editor  than  a  publisher.  A  few  separate 
volumes  were  published  for  me  by  Mr.  Murray. 
Larger  undertakings,  connected  with  copyrights 
which  I  had  retained,  or  was  to  create,  were  pub 
lished  by  Messrs.  Bradbury  &  Evans.  I  was  thus 
relieved  from  the  minor  cares  of  business,  and,  having 
a  just  confidence  in  those  to  whom  my  interests 
were  committed,  I  could  work  more  efficiently  at 
my  responsible  duties  as  author  and  conductor. 
The  nature  of  my  writings  was  such  that  I  had  to 
look  upon  the  various  phases  of  Society  in  the  Past, 
and  so,  by  comparison,  to  estimate  the  Present  more 
accurately  and  impartially  than  a  view  mainly 
directed  to  current  things  might  attain.  Whilst 
engaged  in  writing  the  History  of  my  Country,  I 
had  also  to  keep  a  steady  eye  upon  the  general 
characteristics  of  its  progress — political,  social,  scien 
tific,  and  literary ;  for  I  was  occupied  in  reproducing, 
with  large  additions,  that  Cyclopaedia  of  which  I  had 
been  the  proprietor  and  publisher  under  the  Society 
for  the  Diffusion  of  Useful  Knowledge.  In  this 
evening  of  my  life  I  had  the  happiness  to  become 
intimate  with  many  who  were  eminent  in  the  imagi 
native  walks  of  Literature ;  and  I  learnt,  more  com 
pletely  than  I  knew  before,  that  it  is  not  only  the 
scientific  and  the  philosophical  who  are  advancing, 
by  their  writings,  the  moral  and  intellectual  develop 
ments  of  a  nation. 

In  thus   producing   my   memorials   of  Men   and 
Books,  of  Social  Progress  and  Changing  Manners,  I 


PREFACE.  xi 

may  be  considered  as  risking  the  indulgence  of  the 
garrulous  egotism  of  advanced  years.  I  hope  that 
the  form  of  "  Passages  "  will  keep  me  from  many 
of  the  usual  faults  of  Auto-Biography.  I  shall 
prefer  to  speak  of  others  rather  than  of  myself.  I 
shall  endeavour  to  deal  with  public  realities  rather 
than  with  transient  moods  of  my  own  mind.  I 
have  undertaken  a  survey  of  a  "  long  tract  of  time," 
and,  having  often  to  rely  upon  my  memory,  may 
have  to  ask  the  indulgence  of  the  reader  if  he 
discover  any  mistakes  in  dates,  or  any  confusion  in 
the  relation  of  one  circumstance  to  another.  I  never 
kept  a  diary.  I  am  not  sure  that  I  should  have  had 
a  clearer  view  of  the  leading  Passages  of  my  life  if 
I  had  done  so.  I  was  not  always  careful  in  pre 
serving  letters.  Yet  somehow  I  feel  as  if  I  could 
find  my  way  through  labyrinths  which  might  be 
impenetrable  in  their  obscurity,  were  it  not  for 
associations  which  conduct  me  onward,  even  as  the 
Indian  can  see  his  road  by  old  footmarks  which 
he  alone  can  recognise. 

CHARLES  KNIGHT. 

November  11,  1863. 


PEEFACE  OF  THE  AMERICAN  EDITOE. 


Itf  placing  before  American  readers  Charles  Knight's 
modest  and  manly  record  of  his  most  fruitful  and 
earnest  work,  the  editor  would  feel  himself  at  variance 
with  the  whole  spirit  of  the  Autobiography,  if  he  should 
endeavor  to  add  to  it  any  words  of  his  own  that  could 
seem  like  the  attempt  to  point  its  very  noble  moral. 
The  creed  on  which  Knight's  life  was  based,  was  as 
simple  as  the  acts  resulting  from  it  were  beneficial 
and  useful  in  the  highest  sense.  It  comprehended  two 
leading  articles — first,  a  most  hopeful  and  unshaken 
belief  in  good  and  in  the  great  power  of  good ;  and 
secondly,  a  complete  sacrifice  of  selfish  aims,  to  the 
endeavor  to  benefit  and  elevate  other  men.  Perhaps, 
after  all,  it  is  not  often  that  a  creed  comes  nearer  than 
this  to  the  simplest  rendering  of  a  law,  formulated 
some  twenty  centuries  ago,  wherein  are  set  forth  a 
man's  duty  to  God  and  to  his  neighbor. 

The  regret  which  the  editor  feels  at  finding  himself 
compelled  to  omit  from  this  abridgment  many  things 
which  have  been  of  great  interest  to  him  and  would 
be  equally  interesting  to  the  reader,  is  partly  atoned 
for  by  his  hope  that  in  this  smaller  form  the  Autobi 
ography  will  reach  many  to  whom  the  larger  English 
edition  in  three  volumes  would  be  less  accessible.  In 
making  omissions,  the  editor  has  endeavored  to  leave 


xiv  PREFACE. 

out  such  passages  as  were  rather  descriptive  of  outside 
events  than  of  Mr.  Knight's  own  life,  or  of  subjects 
intimately  connected  with  his  career.  Summaries  of 
political  affairs  in  Europe,  descriptions  of  journeys  and 
places  visited,  and  Mr.  Knight's  quotations  (if  of 
great  length)  from  the  published  writings  of  other 
authors,  have  often  been  omitted ;  and  opinions  ex 
pressed  upon  matters  foreign  to  the  general  topics  of 
the  book  have  sometimes  shared  the  same  fate.  The 
account  in  the  English  edition,  of  Knight's  experi 
ences  with  the  company  of  amateur  actors,  among 
whom  Dickens  was  the  leading  spirit,  could  be  spared 
frdm  this  volume  better  than  many  other  passages, 
since  the  subject  is  treated  of  in  Mr.  Forster's  widely- 
read  biography  of  the  great  novelist. 

Mr.  Knight's  words  have  in  no  case  been  changed. 
A  sentence  has  here  and  there  been  inserted  to  restore 
the  connection,  where  this  has  been  interrupted  by  the 
omission  of  a  passage  ;  but  the  language,  with  these 
exceptions,  remains  precisely  that  of  the  author. 
It  has  been  thought  better  that  this  should  be  pre 
served,  even  at  the  cost  of  a  possible  abruptness  of 
transition  in  a  few  exceptional  cases.  While  the  editor 
is  prepared  for  the  inevitable  differences  of  opinion 
that  must  exist  with  regard  to  what  should  be  retained 
and  what  omitted  in  the  abridgment  of  a  book,  he 
ventures  to  hope  that  in  the  plan  he  has  pursued  he 
lias  avoided  any  actual  injustice  to  the  author's  clear 
and  vivid  presentation  of  his  life's  history. 

NEW  YOKK,  March,  1874. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 


Early  Reminiscences  :  A  Prelude,  1800-11 17 

The  First  Epoch,        .            .          1813-23 79 

The  Second  Epoch,          .            .     1824-50 251 

The  Third  Epoch,      .           .         1851-65....  421 


INTRODUCTORY. 


HE  book,  for  the  new  issue  of  which  I  have 
undertaken  to  write  an  Introductory  Note, 
is  strictly  what  'its  title  indicates — the 
record  of  *  Passages  of  a  Working  Life 
during  Half  a  Century.'  The  Worker  has  ceased 
from  his  labours  and  entered  upon  his  rest.  But  it 
is  too  soon  yet  to  add  the  final  chapter  to  his 
'  Passages.'  All  that  will  be  attempted  here  will  be 
to  carry  on  the  record  till  the  goal  was  reached.  1 
have  called  the  note  Introductory,  but  its  more  fitting 
place  would,  perhaps,  be  at  the  end  rather  than  at 
the  beginning  of  the  book,  and  the  reader  may,  if 
he  please,  defer  the  reading  of  it  till  he  has  read  the 
*  Passages/ 

In  the  Preface  Mr.  Knight  tells  us  that  it  was  in 
the  August  of  1812  his  "  working  life  really  com 
menced  ;"  but  nowhere,  I  think,  has  he  mentioneu 
the  year  when  life  itself  began,  though,  from  various 
incidental  references,  it  may  readily  be  inferred. 


6  INTRODUCTORY. 

But  in  considering  the  closing  years  of  his  working 
life  it  is  well  to  keep  in  mind  his  actual  age. 

He  was  born  at  Windsor  on  the  15th  of  March, 
1791.  The  Dedication,  which  terminates  the  '  Pas 
sages  '  (vol.  iii.  p.  328),  is  dated  January  16,  1865. 
He  had  thus,  as  we  see,  nearly  completed  his  seventy- 
fourth  year  when  he  wrote  the  last  pages  of  his 
book  :  he  had  quite  completed  it  when  the  book  was 
published.  To  pass  in  review  half  a  century  of  such 
varied  and  active  occupation,  and  to  produce  his 
*  Memorials  of  Men  and  Books,  of  Social  Progress, 
and  Changing  Manners,'  was  a  toilsome  and  arduous 
undertaking  at  such  an  age ;  and  it  might  have 
been  thought  that  its  author  would  feel  that,  having 
accomplished  it,  he  had  at  length  fairly  earned 
repose.  But  old  habits  could  not  be  so  easily  cast 
off.  Work  had  long  been  necessary  to  his  enjoy 
ment  of  life.  The  love  of  literature  had  coloured 
his  business  transactions  when  he  was  most  active 
as  a  publisher:  when  he  withdrew  from  direct 
participation  in  trade,  the  pursuit  of  literature  be 
came  his  chief  occupation.  As  he  wrote  in  the 
Preface  to  the  volume  now  in  the  reader's  hand,  he 
"  had  still  to  look  for  happiness  in  work."  Before 
he  had  completed  the  present  book,  he  had,  in  fact, 
been  laying  down  the  lines  of  a  new  one. 

The  subject  of  this  lay  close  to  his  hand,  and 
the  research  it  involved  was  a  congenial  and  pleasant 
labour.  Various  references  in  the  '  Passages  '  had 


INTRODUCTORY.        •  7 

vividly  recalled  the  images  of  one  and  another  of 
the  bygone  generations  of  booksellers — many  of 
them  writers,  printers,  publishers,  as  well  as  book 
sellers.  Drydeu's  quaint  old  publisher,  "  left-legged 
Jacob,"  Pope's  "huge  Lintott,"  and  "dauntless 
Curll,"  Johnson's  first  London  friend,  Edward  Cave, 
and  folio-smitten  Osborne,  Grandison-Kichardson, 
and  the  philanthropic  old  curmudgeon,  Thomas  Guy, 
sitting  in  his  odd  little  shop  at  the  corner  of  Lom 
bard  Street,  "  over  against  the  Stocks  Market,"  were 
more  than  mere  names  to  him ;  and,  as  one  and 
another  of  their  shadows  crossed  his  path,  there 
recurred  an  old,  half-formed  fancy  that  a  pleasant 
gossiping  volume  might  be  written  about  them, 
their  doings,  and  their  associates,  such  as  years 
before  had  led  him  to  collect  books  and  prints  that 
served  to  illustrate  the  history  of  the  Trade.  More 
than  once  we  had  talked  the  subject  over,  and  having 
often  had  occasion,  during  the  quarter  of  a  century 
we  had  worked  together,  to  admire  how  quickly  per 
formance  followed  on  conception,  I  was  little  sur 
prised  at  receiving,  a  month  or  so  after  the  publication 
of  the  third  volume  of  the  *  Passages,'  the  first  proof- 
sheets  of  a  Memoir  of  the  Founder  of  Guy's  Hospital, 
and  learning  that  it  was  to  form  the  opening  chapter 
of  a  volume  to  be  entitled  '  Shadows  of  the  Old 
Booksellers.'  On  some  of  the  more  out-of-the-way 
points  of  a  topographical  and  antiquarian  kind, 
respecting  which  he  was  unsatisfied,  and  which  he 


g  INTRODUCTORY. 

was,  of  course,  unable  personally  to  investigate,  I 
was  able  to  throw  a  little  additional  light,  and  to 
indicate  some  collateral  sources  of  information  which 
he  had  overlooked.  The  new  materials  entailed 
fresh  toil,  but  he  at  once  cheerfully  engaged  on  it, 
recast,  the  memoir,  and  made  it  the  best,  the  most 
interesting,  and  the  most  appreciative  biography 
that  had  been  written  of  one  well  entitled  to  com 
memoration. 

Once  fairly  started,  the  work  advanced  smoothly 
and  rapidly.  With  his  life-long  acquaintance  with 
the  theme  in  all  its  parts  and  bearings,  his  know 
ledge  of  the  men,  his  fondness  for  picturesque 
details,  and  tact  in  selecting  and  grouping  them, 
and  his  never-failing  facility  of  expression,  the  mere 
writing  was  comparatively  easy,  and  printing,  as 
was  his  custom,  chapter  by  chapter  as  each  was 
written,  by  the  end  of  the  year  the  volume  was 
finished. 

The  Old  Booksellers  had  been  a  congenial  theme, 
and  he  parted  from  them  unwillingly.  He  had  told 
the  story,  more  or  less  fully,  of  a  goodly  number  of 
them — from  Thomas  Guy  to  James  Lackington — 
and  thus  traversed,  in  a  desultory  but  not  uncon 
nected  manner,  the  history  of  bookselling  and  pub 
lishing  during  the  entire  eighteenth  century,  at  the 
same  time  illustrating  on  the  way  many  a  by-path 
of  literary  and  social  life.  But  then,  how  many  had 
he  been  forced  to  exclude  whose  claims  to  a  place 


INTRODUCTORY. 

seemed  scarcely  inferior  to  those  he  had  admitted, 
and  of  whom,  as  representatives  of  special  phases  of 
art  or  literature,  of  the  trade  or  of  the  times,  so* 
much  might  have  been  told  that  would  have  given 
life  and  freshness  to  the  book,  and  amused  and  in 
terested  the  reader  !  Lingering  thus  over  their 
memories,  he,  in  the  Introduction  to  the  volume, 
enumerates  and  characterises  many  of  those  he  has 
omitted,  and,  noting  some  of  the  associations  evoked 
by  their  names,  observes  that  the  more  prominent 
among  them  might  "  fitly  form  the  subject  of  a 
separate  series,"  and,  "  without  pledging  himself  to 
such  an  attempt,"  states  that  he  "may  probably 
employ  his  leisure  in  collecting  some  of  the  neces 
sary  materials,  which,  like  those  upon  which  the 
present  volume  has  been  based,  have  to  be  sought 
for  in  odd  corners,  as  well  as  in  open  spaces  acces 
sible  to  all." 

Kesearch  such  as  this  was,  however,  more  than 
could  be  entered  upon  immediately,  and,  as  a  lighter 
exercise,  he  undertook  the  preparation  of  a  volume 
entitled  '  Half-hours  with  the  best  Letter- Writers 
and  Autobiographers/  a  selection  of  short  but  always 
interesting  extracts,  with  introductory  notices  of  the 
writers,  and  usually  some  apt  comments.  '  Shadows 
of  the  Old  Booksellers '  was  completed  in  October 
1865  ;  the  'Half-hours'  occupied  him  till  November 
1866.  But-already  he  had  a  new  work  on  the  anvil. 
Sight  was  fast  failing ;  the  fingers  could  not  guide 


10  INTRODUCTORY. 

the  pen  ;  the  memory  no  longer  responded  as  of  old 
to  the  calls  made  upon  it.  But  there  was  the  old 
•  craving  for  work,  and,  as  the  readiest  means  of  satis 
fying  it,  he  set  about  the  composition  of  an  historical 
romance,  led  thereto,  probably,  by  the  circumstance 
that  he  had  been  once  again  reading  through  Scott's 
novels — or,  rather,  had  listened  to  them,  for  his  eyes 
no  longer  permitted  him  to  read  for  himself.  The 
story  was,  however,  suggested  by  a  passage  in  a 
letter  from  the  Kev.  George  Garrard  to  Sir  Thomas 
Wentworth,  Lord  Deputy  of  Ireland,  dated  January 
8th,  1635-6,  telling  how  a  man  of  mean  estate,  suc 
ceeding  unexpectedly  to  a  large  fortune,  "  was  so 
overjoyed  that  he  fell  mad,"  when,  under  the  vicious 
action  of  the  Court  of  Wards,  "  instantly  he  was 
begged  at  Court,"  but  died  two  days  after.  '  Begg'd 
at  Court,'  as  the  novel  was  called,  is  the  story  of  this 
"poor  rich  man's"  daughter,  who,  in  place  of  her 
father,  has  been  given  as  a  ward  to  a  certain  Captain 
Black  man.  It  is  a  "  Legend  of  Westminster,"  and 
referring  to  the  Commonwealth  period,  affords  room 
for  some  interesting  local  historical  gossip.  The 
story  is  told  in  a  single  volume,  and  a  reader  old- 
fashioned  enough  to  enjoy  a  plain  unsensational 
historical  novelette  will  peruse  it  with  pleasure ;  but 
its  chief  interest  will  probably  be  found  in  the  time 
and  the  circumstances  in  which  it  was  composed. 
The  last  lines  of  it  were  written  on  the  15th  of 
March,  1867,  the  author's  seventy-sixth  birthday: 


INTRO  DUCTOKY.  11 

The  story  itself,  owing  to  the  failure  of  sight,  was 
"dictated  to  a  kind  helper."  It  would  not  be  easy 
to  find  a  parallel  to  this  in  literary  history. 

The  novel  finished,  his  thoughts  were  still  at  work. 
As  lying  within  the  compass  of  his  now  limited 
means  of  research,  he  undertook  a  second  series  of 

*  Half-hours  with  the  best  Letter-Writers  and  Auto- 
biographers  ;'  and  I  see  by  the  dates  on  the  proof- 
sheets  now  lying  before  me,  that  he  had  completed 
it  by  the  beginning  of  June  1868.     But  his  vigour 
was  by  this  time  greatly  abated,  and  he  acknow 
ledges  in  the  Preface  the   help  for  which  he  had 
been  indebted  to  a  member  of  his  family.     Still,  as 
in  the  earlier  series,  the  examples  are  well  selected ; 
the  introductions  and  interchapters  are  written  in  a 
cheerful  and  kindly  spirit ;  there  is  shrewd  charac 
terisation,  genial  criticism,  a  healthy  moral  tone ; 
and,  as   in   the   sketch  of  Sir  John  Dinely,   some 
pleasant  personal  reminiscences. 

With  these  Half-hours  ended  his  career  as  an 
author.  His  career  as  editor  continued  a  few 
months  longer.  In  the  second  volume  of  the  '  Pas 
sages  '  (pp.  58-64)  he  narrates  at  length  the  circum 
stances  which  led  him  to  originate  in  1827  the 

*  British  Almanac/   and  the  associated  volume,  the 

*  Companion  to  the  Almanac,'  and  he  remarks  with 
evident,  and  very  justifiable,  satisfaction  that  {i  the 
pair   have   travelled    on   together   for   thirty-seven 
years  under  my  direction,  through  many  changes  of 


12  INTRODUCTORY. 

times  and  men,"  while  "the  general  features  of 
these  publications  have  undergone  very  little  change 
during  this  long  period."  For  yet  five  years  more 
he  continued  to  edit  the  pair,  and  he  brought  his 
literary  labours  to  a  close  by  preparing  during  the 
last  autumn  days  of  1868,  the  volume  of  the  *  Com 
panion  to  the  Almanac '  for  1869.  This  was  the 
forty-second  of  the  annual  series,  each  volume  of 
which  had  been  produced  under  his  direct  super 
vision.  He  could  not  have  undertaken  the  labour 
another  year,  and  the  work  was  transferred,  with 
its  high  character  unimpaired,  to  other  hands. 
Mr.  Knight's  latest  literary  contribution  to  the 
*  Companion '  was  a  lively  and  interesting  paper  in 
the  volume  for  1867  on  '  Mural  Records  of  Pedestrian 
Tourists' — the  pedestrian  tourists  being  the  pro 
fessional  tramps  who  infest  the  country  workhouses, 
and  the  mural  records  the  scribblings  they  leave 
behind  them  on  the  walls  of  the  "  Tramp-wards  "  in 
which  they  make  their  temporary  abode. 

For  a  while  longer  he  continued  to  select,  or  to 
talk  of  selecting,  books  to  be  read  to  him  with  a  view 
to  some  new  work ;  but  day  by  day  it  became  more 
and  more  clear  to  those  who  watched  so  tenderly 
over  him,  that  at  length  his  working  days  were  past, 
and  gradually,  but  tacitly,  he  seemed  himself  to  ac 
quiesce  in  that  conviction.  When,  however,  he  ceased 
to  read,  or  be  read  to,  with  a  view  to  writing,  he  re 
mained  as  eager  as  ever  in  acquisition.  At  this  time. 


INTRODUCTORY.  13 

and  indeed  as  long  as  his  strength  held  out,  he  was  an 
almost  insatiable  listener.  Still,  as  of  old,  he  watched 
with  unfailing  interest  the  course  of  public  events, 
still  liked  to  know  what  new  books  were  published, 
and  in  his  general  reading,  whilst  following  the 
current  literature,  mingled  therewith  the  good  old 
favourites,  alternating  with  the  lighter  works, 
whether  old  or  new,  those  of  a  higher  and  graver 
purpose.  Thus,  for  example,  in  these  last  years  he 
found  in  the  Life,  but  still  more  in  the  Sermons,  of 
the  Kev.  W.  F.  Kobertson,  of  Brighton,  a  perennial 
source  of  pleasure,  refreshment  and  support. 

And  so,  becoming  constantly  feebler,  more  and 
more  entirely  dependent  on  those  around  him,  slowly 
wore  away  these  latter  days.  For  change  of  air  and 
scene,  and  brighter  skies  and  warmer  winter  climate, 
Ventnor,  St.  Boniface,  with  its  pleasant  grounds,  and 
Bonchurch,  were  successively  chosen  for  residence 
(1869-71) ;  and  when  it  was  thought  advisable  to 
be  nearer  London,  Esher,  Weybridge,  and  finally 
Addlestone  in  Surrey  (1871-73).  But  he  had  become 
indifferent  now  to  place  or  scene ;  the  days  of  his 
fourscore  years  were  in  "their  strength  but  labour 
and  sorrow,"  and  fast  "  coming  to~  an  end,  as  it  were 
a  tale  that  is  told/' 

The  end  came  gently,  solemnly.  About  half-past 
two  in  the  afternoon  of  Sunday,  the  9th  of  March, 
1873,  tended  and  supported  still,  as  ever,  by  Her  to 
whom,  eight  years  before,  he  had  dedicated  these 


14  INTRODUCTORY. 

'  Passages/  and  by  the  Daughters  who  constantly 
shared  in  the  pious  duty,  he  passed  away  peacefully, 
and,  as  it  seemed  to  those  who  watched  by  him, 
painlessly,  to  his  rest.  He  was  laid  in  the  family 
vault  in  the  old  burial-ground  at  Windsor  on  the 
following  Friday :  the  morrow  would  have  been  his 
eighty-second  birthday. 

This  is  neither  the  place  nor  the  occasion  to  con 
sider  the  rank  of  Charles  Knight  as  a  writer,  or  to 
attempt  to  estimate  the  work  which  he  undertook 
and  that  which  he  achieved.  What  he  did  is  told 
in  the  following  pages.  These  few  supplementary 
lines  are  simply  a  notice  of  the  occupations  of  his  last 
years.  What  he  aimed  to  bring  about,  and  what  he 
more  than  any  one  else  aided  in  effecting,  was,  "  the 
general  diffusion  of  sound  popular  literature."  He 
from  the  first  longed  to  see  "the  wide  fields  of 
knowledge  become  the  inheritance  of  all ;"  or,  as  he 
expressed  it  in  one  of  the  last  pages  which  he  wrote 
with  his  own  hand,*  in  the  outset  of  life  he  formed 
the  "  desire  to  make  knowledge  a  common  possession 
instead  of  an  exclusive  privilege,"  and  to  the  end, 
through  good  and  evil  fortune,  he  steadily  prosecuted 
his  purpose. 

JAMES  THOBNE. 

April,  1873. 
*  Dedication  to  '  Shadows  of  the  Old  Booksellers.'  October,  1865. 


EAELY    EEM1NISCENCES. 


EAELY   REMINISCENCES: 

A  PRELUDE. 


SECTION  I. 

N  the  night  of  the  thirty-first  of  December, 
1800,  I  had  gone  to  bed  with  a  vague 
fear  that  I  should  be  awakened  by  a 
terrific  noise  which  would  shake  the 
house  more  than  the  loudest  thunder-clap,  and 
would  produce  such  a  concussion  of  the  air  as 
would  break  every  window-pane  in  Windsor  town. 
The  house  in  which  my  father  lived,  and  in  which  I 
was  born,  was  close  to  the  great  entrance  to  the 
lower  ward  of  Windsor  Castle,  called,  after  its 
builder,  Henry  the  Eighth's  gateway.  I  crept  down 
in  the  dawning  of  that  first  day  of  the  year  to  a  sit 
ting  room  which  commanded  a  view  of  the  Round 
Tower.  The  aspect  of  that  room  was  eastern.  I 
watched  the  gradual  reddening  of  the  sky  ;  and  I 
momently  expected  to  see  a  flash  from  one  of  the 
many  cannon  mounted  on  the  Tower,  and  to  hear 
that  roar  from  those  mighty  pieces  of  ordnance  which 
was  to  produce  such  alarming  consequences.  I  knew 
not  then  that  these  guns  were  only  four-pounders, 
and  that  if  all  the  seventeen  had  been  fired  at  once 
the  windows  would  most  probably  have  been  safe. 
I  watched  and  watched  till  the  sun  was  high.  It  was 


18  EARLY    REMINISCENCES  : 

then  reported  that  the  King  had  ordered  there  should 
be  no  discharge  of  the  cannon  of  the  keep,  for  the 
new  painted  window  by  Mr.  West,  at  the  east  end  of 
St.  George's  Chapel,  might  be  broken  by  the  concus 
sion.  There  was  no  boom  of  artillery  ;  but  the  bells 
of  the  belfry  of  St.  George's  Chapel  and  the  bells  of 
the  parish  church  rang  out  a  merry  peal — not  so 
much  to  welcome  the  coming  of  the  new  year  and 
beginning  of  the  new  century  (for  the  learned  had 
settled,  after  a  vast  deal  of  popular  controversy,  that 
the  century  had  its  beginning  on  the  1st  of  January, 
1801,  and  not  on  the  1st  of  January,  1800),  but  to 
hail  the  legal  commencement  of  the  Union  with  Ire 
land.  The  sun  shone  brilliantly  on  a  new  standard 
on  the  Round  Tower.  I  had  often  looked  admiringly 
upon  the  old  standard,  tattered  and  dingy  as  it  some 
times  was  ;  but  I  now  beheld  that  this  new  standard 
was  not  only  perfect  in  its  shape  and  bright  in  its 
colours,  but  was  wholly  of  an  unaccustomed  pattern. 
There  were  the  arms  of  England  in  the  first  and 
fourth  quarterings ;  the  arms  of  Scotland  in  the 
second  quartering  ;  and  the  arms  of  Ireland  in  the 
third.  But  where  had  vanished  the  fleur-de-lys  ? 
Was  his  gracious  majesty  no  longer  King  of  Great 
Britain,  France,  and  Ireland,  as  his  style  had  run  in 
all  legal  instruments  in  the  memory  of  man,  and  a 
good  deal  beyond  ?  The  newspapers  said  he  was  now 
to  be  styled  "  George  the  Third,  by  the  grace  of  God, 
of  the  United  Kingdom  of  Great  Britain  arid  Ire 
land,  King,  Defender  of  the  Faith."  The  good  folks 
of  Windsor  argued  that  the  change  was  ominous  of 
the  departing  glory  of  Old  England. 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  I  knew  much  of 
such  matters  in  this  tenth  year  of  my  life  ;  but, 


A   PRELUDE.  19 

nevertheless,  I  knew  something  of  what  was  going 
on  in  my  little  world  of  Windsor,  in  connexion  with 
the  doings  of  the  great  world  beyond  the  favoured 
home  of  the  king.  I  was  the  only  child  of  a  widowed 
father ;  his  companion  in  his  few  leisure  hours ;  the 
object  of  his  incessant  solicitude.  I  cannot  remem 
ber  myself  as  I  was  painted  at  two  years  old,  in  a 
white  frock  with  a  black  sash — the  indication  that 
I  had  lost  my  mother.  She  was,  as  I  was  told  by 
those  who  knew  her  and  loved  her,  a  most  amiable 
woman,  whose  society  my  father  had  enjoyed  only 
for  a  few  years — the  daughter  of  a  wealthy  yeoman, 
of  Iver,  in  Buckinghamshire.  The  "yeoman"  of 
those  days,  although  a  landed  proprietor,  did  not 
aspire  to  be  called  "esquire."  He  would  now  be 
recognised  as  "  gentleman-farmer."  My  white  frock 
and  black  sash  had  given  place  to  jacket  and  trowsers. 
But  still  I  can  call  to  remembrance  the  unjoyous 
head  of  the  desolate  household ;  his  passionate 
caresses  of  his  boy;  his  long  fits  of  gloom  and 
silence.  We  had  little  talk  of  childish  things.  Of 
his  own  childhood  he  never  spake  to  me.  I  came 
to  know,  in  after  years,  that  he  had  been  brought 
up  by  his  relative,  the  Rev.  James  Hampton,  who 
subsequently  earned  an  honourable  fame  as  the 
translator  of  Polybius.  This  learned  man  died  in 
1778.  In  1780,  my  father  was  settled  at  Windsor ; 
for  I  have  heard  him  relate  with  some  complacency 
how  he  had  asserted  his  political  independence,  by 
voting  for  Admiral  Keppel  in  that  year  ;  "  though," 
according  to  Horace  Walpole,  "  all  the  royal  bakers, 
and  brewers,  and  butchers  voted  against  him."  My 
father  had  qualified  himself  for  his  trade  of  a  book 
seller,  by  his  experience  in  the  house  of Hors- 


20  EARLY  REMINISCENCES  : 

field,  the  successor  of  the  Knaptons,  both  of  which 
publishers  were  very  eminent  in  their  day.  He  had 
moreover  a  taste  for  literary  composition,  which  he 
professionally  indulged  in  the  useful  labour  of  com 
piling  a  little  work  which  held  its  place  in  many 
editions  for  half  a  century  as  "  The  Windsor  Guide." 
I  find  copper-plate  views  accompanying  this  hand 
book  which  bear  the  inscription :  "  Published  as  the 
Act  directs  by  Charles  Knight,  Windsor,  March  31st, 
1785."  In  1786  and  1787  he  published  the  first 
celebrated  periodical  written  by  Etonians.  I  possess 
an  interesting  document,  being  the  receipt  to  Charles 
Knight  for  fifty  guineas  "  in  full  for  the  copyright  of 
'  The  Microcosm,'  a  periodical  work  earned  on  by  us, 
the  undermentioned  persons,  under  the  name  and 
title  of  Gregory  Griffin.  Received  for  John  Smith, 
Robert  Smith,  John  Frere,  and  self,  George  Canning." 
Of  this  school-boys'  production,  remarkable  for  its 
intrinsic  merits,  but  more  so  for  the  subsequent 
eminence  of  its  writers,  Canning  was  the  working 
Editor.  He  was  thus  brought  into  friendly  commu 
nication  with  my  father.  It  was  not  only  when  the 
brilliant  supporter  of  Pitt  was  rising  into  political 
importance,  but  when  he  had  taken  his  place  among 
the  foremost  men  of  his  time,  that  he  had  a  kindly 
feeling  towards  his  first  publisher,  often  calling 
upon  him  with  a  cordial  greeting  when  he  visited 
Windsor. 

As  I  recollect  my  father  when  I  was  a  child  of 
seven  or  eight  years,  he  was  much  occupied  by  his 
business,  for  he  had  become  a  printer  in  addition  to 
his  trade  of  stationer  and  bookseller.  A  considerable 
portion  of  his  time  was  also  spent  on  public  affairs, 
first  of  the  Parish,  and  then  of  the  Corporation.  I 


A    PRELUDE.  21 

was  left  much  to  myself,  except  when  I  listened 
to  the  old-world  stories  of  the  faithful  servant  to 
whose  charge  I  was  committed  by  my  dying  mother 
— how  like  she  was  to  the  Peggotty  of  Dickens ! 
It  was  fortunate,  therefore,  that  I  acquired  very 
early  a  taste  for  reading.  I  had  access  to  a  large 
collection  of  books,  and  I  quickly  found  abundant 
consolation  for  my  solitary  hours  in  that  reading 
which,  somewhat  unwisely  I  think,  has  now  been 
supplanted  by  what  is  held  to  be  directly  instructive. 
To  the  child,  Robinson  Crusoe  is,  happily,  not  a 
sealed  book  in  an  educational  age  ;  but  the  "  Seven 
Champions  of  Christendom,"  the  "Arabian  NigUts," 
the  "Arabian  Tales,"  with  their  wonders  of  the 
"  Dom  Daniel"  (which,  looking  back  upon,  seem  to  mo 
to  have  as  much  poetry  in  them  as  "Thalaba"),  the 
"Tales  of  the  Genii,"  "Gulliver's  Travels,"  "Philip 
Quarll,"  "  Peter  Wilkins,"  and  a  dozen  others,  now 
vanished,  were  not  then  superseded,  either  in  their 
original  seductions  or  in  safer  abridgments,  by  the 
tamer  fictions  in  which  moral  and  religious  truths  are 
inculcated.  My  avidity  for  reading,  and,  perhaps, 
the  dangerous  locality  in  which  I  lived — an  open 
sewer  from  the  Castle  creeping  at  the  back  of  my 
father's  house — made  my  constitution  feeble  ;  and 
the  feebleness  ended  in  typhoid  fever.  I  recovered 
slowly,  and  was  taken  for  the  establishment  of  my 
health  to  a  farm  which  was  tenanted  by  the  father 
of  my  good  nurse.  I  have  described  what  was  the 
life  of  a  small  farmer  when  I  was  playing  at 
"Farmer's  Boy"  at  Warfield — one  of  the  parishes 
comprised  in  Windsor  Forest.*  My  host  was  a 

*  "Once  upon  a  Time."— The  Farmer's  Kitchen. 


22  EARLY   REMINISCENCES  : 

shrewd  Yorkshireman,    from    whom  I   learnt  more 
than  I  could  have  obtained  from  many  books.     He 
was  a  tenant  on  the  Walsh  estate,  having  been  placed 
in   this  farm   as   a   reward   for  his  faithful  service 
with  the  Governor  of  Pennsylvania,  Sir  John  Walsh, 
before   the  War  of  Independence.      He  would  dis 
course  to  me  of  the  wonderful  man  who  drew  light 
ning  from  the  skies — the  friend  of  his  own  scientific 
master  (whose  papers  about  the  Torpedo  and  other 
curious   matters  may  be  read  in  the  Philosophical 
Transactions),  and  he  told  how  Benjamin  Franklin 
became   a  great  instrument   in  accomplishing  that 
change  which   had   separated  the  American  States 
from  their  parent  country.     He  would  relate  to  me 
incidents   of   the   war  about    taxing   the    colonists, 
speaking    rather    from  the   revolutionist   than    the 
loyal  point  of  view.     Altogether,  a  plain  good  man 
of  simple  habits  and  large  intelligence.     He  and  his 
bustling  wife  lived  in  the  usual  style  of  the  southern 
farmer  of  the  days  of  Arthur  Young,  before  he  was 
pampered   by  war-prices   into   luxury  and   display. 
The  greater  war-time  of  the  French  Revolution  had 
in   twenty  years  extinguished  much  of  the  imme 
diate  interest  of  the  half-forgotten  era  of  the  Ame 
rican   war.      My    experienced    friend   would    make 
the  stirring  passing  events  of  the  week  known  to 
his    household,    in    reading    aloud    the    "  Reading 
Mercury,"  which  was  duly  delivered  at  his  door  by 
an  old  newsman  on  a  shambling  pony.    How  eagerly 
we  looked  for  this  messenger,  whose  budget  would 
provide  occupation  for  many  a  dull  evening !     Pitt 
and    Fox,   Nelson    and    Bonaparte,    were    familiar 
names.     Dibdin's  songs  had  found  their  way  to  this 
solitary  inland  place.      Invasion   was   a   threat   we 


A    PRELUDE.  23 

despised  ;  for  within  a  couple  of  miles  of  our  farm 
was  a  summer-camp  of  regular  soldiers.  I  have 
walked  wonderingly  through  the  lines  of  tents  which 
stretched  across  the  sandy  plain  near  Swinley,  and 
have  lingered  among  the  pickets  till  the  evening  gun 
warned  us  to  move  homeward.  But  our  country  had 
other  protectors  from  our  great  enemy.  It  was  satis 
factory  to  learn,  from  a  popular  song  which  our 
ploughmen  trolled  out,  that — 

"Should  their  flat-bottoms  in  darkness  come  o'er, 
Our  brave  Volunteers  would  receive  them  on  shore." 

There  were,  indeed,  Volunteers  before  the  close  of 
the  eighteenth  century,  and  though  they  were  some 
what  disparagingly  called  "Loyal  Associations,"  as 
though  they  were  not  soldiers,  I  can  bear  my  testi 
mony  that  at  Windsor  in  their  blue  coats,  black  belts, 
and  round  hats  with  a  bear-skin  over  the  crown,  they 
looked  very  formidable,  although  perhaps  not  quite 
equal  to  suppress  a  riot  for  cheap  bread. 

My  pleasant  months  at  Brock  Hill  Farm  came  to 
an  end  ;  and  I  went  home  to  begin  the  dreary  life  of 
a  day-school.  Dreary,  indeed,  it  was  ;  for  the  educa 
tion  was  altogether  rote-work  ;  without  the  slightest 
attempt  to  smooth  over  the  difficulties  that  presented 
themselves  in  geographical  names  held  together  by 
no  thread  of  description,  and  in  rules  of  arithmetic, 
to  be  regularly  worked  through  without  the  slightest 
endeavour  to  explain  their  rationale.  The  beginning 
of  the  century  found  me  at  this  school.  I  was  one 
of  the  few  who  learnt  Latin  and  French.  The  same 
emigrd  of  the  Revolutionary  times  taught  both 
tongues.  I  have  no  doubt  his  French  accent  was 
perfect ;  but  his  Latin,  if  I  may  judge  from  the  way 


24  EAELY   REMINISCENCES  : 

in  which  he  read  the  first  line  of  the  JSneid,  was  not 
the  Latin  of  Eton  "  I  do  trow." 

"  Arma  veeroomque  cano,Trojfe  quee  preemus  ab  orees." 

My  language-master  was  a  pleasant  gentlemanly 
person  who  hated  England  thoroughly.  I  have 
looked  with  him  upon  our  illuminations  of  tallow 
candles  for  some  naval  victory,  and  have  been  dashed 
in  my  confident  belief  that  our  town  guns,  and  our 
bells,  and  the  "  Reading  Mercury "  told  the  truth, 
when  he  assured  me  that  this  rejoicing  was  only  a 
false  pretence  ;  that  it  was  vain  to  expect  that  a 
trumpery  island  would  ever  be  able  to  contend 
against  France ;  and  that  assuredly  George  III. 
would  soon  resign  Windsor  Castle  to  the  First  Con 
sul.  Nevertheless,  he  prayed  that  he  might  not  see 
the  downfall  of  another  monarchy. 

The  misery  of  the  poor  in  my  native  town  at  the 
beginning  of  the  century  was  sufficiently  visible  even 
to  my  childish  apprehension.  On  an  evening  of  the 
previous .  autumn,  when  I  was  returning  homeward 
from  a  game  in  the  Park,  I  heard  the  distant  shouts  of 
a  multitude,  and  saw  a  furious  mob  gathering  at  the 
junction  of  the  streets  near  the  market-place.  I  got 
into  the  safety  of  my  home  not  too  soon,  for  the  mob 
was  coming  towards  the  baker's  shop  that  was  next 
door.  They  had  smashed  the  windows  of  several 
bakers  in  the  lower  part  of  the  town.  They  believed, 
as  the  greater  number  of  people  everywhere  believed, 
that  the  high  price  of  corn  was  wholly  occasioned  by 
combinations  of  corn-factors,  meal-men,  millers,  and 
bakers ;  and  that  if  these  oppressors  of  the  nation 
could  be  compelled  to  bring  their  stores  to  market, 
there  would  be  abundance  and  cheapness,  and  no 


A    PKELUDE.  25 

possible  chance  of  the  supply  falling  short.  Our 
neighbour  the  baker  hid  hiinself.  He  cared  little  if 
his  door  were  forced,  and  his  loaves '  stolen,  provided 
the  heavy  box  under  his  bed  were  safe.  That  box, 
as  he  more  than  once  showed  me,  was  full  of  crowns 
and  half  crowns,  with  some  bright  guineas,  which  he 
had  long  hoarded.  The  reputed  money-hoarders 
were  many  in  our  town — men  and  women  who  had 
no  faith  in  the  Funds  or  the  Bank  of  England.  The 
baker  hid  himself  in  the  back  bed-room  where  his 
treasure  was.  My  father  from  his  window  exhorted 
the  people  to  go  home.  I  stood  trembling  behind 
him,  and  was  somewhat  astonished  to  see  how  power 
ful  was  the  influence  of  firmness  and  kindness  in 
turning  aside  the  wild  but  unpremeditated  excite 
ment  of  unhappy  and  ignorant  men,  who  were  not 
without  a  sense  of  justice  even  in  their  anger.  There 
were  a  few  more  outbreaks  as  the  winter  drew  on  ; 
for  the  price  of  bread  continued  to  rise.  In  January 
the  price  of  the  quartern  loaf  of  4  Ibs.  5  J  ozs.  was 
Is.  9d.  Windsor  was  always  famous  for  its  charities, 
which,  no  doubt,  were  often  improvidently  bestowed; 
but  this,  at  any  rate,  was  not  a  time  in  which  the  rich 
could  shrink  from  helping  the  poor,  even  if  they  had 
known  that  the  gratuitous  distribution  of  provisions 
had  really  a  tendency  to  raise  the  price  of  food. 
And  so  I  looked  upon  crowds  bringing  daily  their 
tickets  to  a  great  empty  house,  which  had  been 
fitted  up  with  coppers,  wherein  unlimited  shins  of 
beef  became  reduced  into  savoury  soup,  and  bushels 
of  rice  were  boiled  into  a  palatable  mess.  The  work 
of  distribution  was  performed  under  the  inspection  of 
a  committee,  who  laboured  with  zeal,  if  not  always 
with  judgment.  One  benefit  they  effected  in  addition 

2      • 


26  EARLY   REMINISCENCES  : 

to  that  of  saving  the  humbler  population  from  the  pains 
of  hunger.  They  gave  time  for  them  to  ask  them 
selves  whether  any  good  would  be  accomplished  by 
threatening  millers  and  bakers  with  summary  ven 
geance  if  they  did  not  lower  the  price  of  meal  and 
bread.  It  was  a  hard  lesson  to  learn,  when  there 
were  few  sound  teachers.  Not  many  of  the  working 
people  could  then  read  the  newspapers  ;  but  some 
who  did  read  them  might  tell  their  neighbours  that  it 
was  argued  that  the  excessive  price  of  meal  and  bread 
was  a  hard  thing  to  bear,  but  that  it  was  less  terrible 
than  the  famine  which  would  ensue,  if  farmers  and 
millers  and  bakers  could  be  compelled  to  sell  from 
their  small  stores  at  a  price  at  which  every  mouth 
could  be  fed  as  in  years  of  plenty.  Nevertheless,  the 
educated  and  the  ignorant  would  equally  learn  from 
the  newspapers,  that  great  peers  and  wise  judges  did 
not  altogether  disapprove  of  the  principles  that  led 
to  mill-burning  and  window-breaking.  They  would 
learn  how  a  corn-factor  named  Rusby  had  been  found 
guilty  of  the  crime  of  having  purchased  by  sample  in 
the  corn-market  at  Mark  Lane  90  quarters  of  oats 
at  41s.  per  quarter,  and  sold  30  of  them  in  the  same 
market,  on  the  same  day,  at  44s. ;  and  how  the  Lord 
Chief  Justice  Kenyon  had  said  to  the  jury,  "  You 
have  conferred,  by  your  verdict,  almost  the  greatest 
benefit  on  your  country  that  ever  was  conferred  by 
any  jury."  They  would  learn  how  this  wicked  corn- 
factor  met  with  his  deserts,  even  before  his  sentence 
for  the  crime  of  regrating  had  been  passed  upon  him ; 
for  that  his  house  in  Blackfriars  Road  had  been 
gutted  by  an  enraged  populace.  They  would  learn 
how  the  earl  of  Warwick  in  the  House  of  Lords  had 
recommended  the  adoption  of  a  maximum,  by  which 


A    PRELUDE.  2? 

no  wheat  should  be  sold  at  a  higher  price  than  ten 
shillings  the  bushel ;  and  how  his  lordship  had 
rejoiced  that  no  less  than  four  hundred  convictions 
had  taken  place  throughout  the  country  for  fore 
stalling,  regrating,  and  monopolising.  And  why  did 
he  rejoice  ?  When  the  man  Rusby,  he  said,  was 
convicted,  the  price  of  oats  was  fifty-two  shillings  per 
quarter ;  but  such  was  the  effect  of  his  conviction, 
that  the  price  of  oats  fell  from  day  to  day  till  it  came 
as  low  as  seventeen  shillings  and  sixpence.  Such 
were  the  economic  doctrines  proclaimed  sixty  years 
ago  in  high  places  !  Can  we  wonder  that  the  igno 
rance  of  the  people  was  in  perfect  concord  ? 

It  was  a  gloomy  season,  but  nevertheless  we 
went  on  with  our  usual  course  of  social  observances. 
Valentine's  Day  was  well  kept  amongst  us.  It  was 
a  serious  affair  then  for  a  bachelor  to  send  a  letter 
embellished  with  hearts  and  darts  to  a  lady ;  for  it 
was  held  to  have  a  solemn  meaning.  But  children 
innocently  played  at  Valentines.  I  have  been  led 
blindfolded  to  the  mistress  of  my  affections  in  the 
early  mom,  that  no  meaner  divinity  might  meet  my 
eyes  :  no  vulgar  chance  should  interfere  with  our 
deliberate  choice.  On  St.  Valentine's  eve  some  would 
draw  lots,  to  determine  which  pair  should  be  regis 
tered  in  "  Cupid's  Kalendar."  Old  customs  linger 
about  my  early  memories,  like  patches  of  sunlight 
in  a  sombre  wood.  On  the  Saturday  before  mid- 
lent  Sunday,  the  farmers'  wives  who  kept  their  stalls 
in  our  market  would  exhibit  their  well-known  pre 
paration  of  boiled  wheat,  which  few  old  housewives 
would  neglect  to  purchase.  On  that  fourth  Sunday 
in  Lent,  I  regularly  feasted  on  Furmety,  with  a  lady 
who  was  carefully  observant  of  ancient  usages.  Does 


28  EARLY    REMINISCENCES  : 

any  one  in  the  southern  counties  now  know  the  taste 
of  this  once  famous  dish,  made  of  boiled  wheat 
prepared  in  the  farmer's  household,  and  having  been 
a  second  time  boiled  in  milk  with  plums,  was  served 
sugared  and  spiced  in  a  tureen  ?  In  the  West,  the 
custom  is  still  as  duly  regarded  as  the  rite  of  the 
pancake  on  Shrove  Tuesday.  The  first  of  May 
was  scarcely  saluted  "  with  our  early  song."  But 
in  this  May  of  1801,  there  was  a  great  ceremony  at 
Windsor,  in  which  I  bore  a  humble  part.  On  the 
10th  of  May  the  custom  of  perambulating  the 
parish,  which  had  been  in  disuse  since  1783,  was 
revived,  with  wondrous  feastings.  The  printed  record 
of  these  doings  for  three  days  takes  me  back  into 
the  scenes  of  my  childhood.  There,  still,  my  "little 
footsteps  lightly  print  the  ground."  The  popula 
tion  of  Windsor  gave  themselves  up  for  three  days 
to  singing  psalms  at  boundary  oaks,  and  carousing 
at  boundary  houses.  A  good  deal  of  the  winter's 
gloom  was  passing  away.  The  spring  was  fine.  The 
price  of  the  quartern  loaf  had  been  rapidly  falling 
from  the  Is.  lOJd  of  the  5th  of  March  (the 
highest  price' it  ever  attained),  to  the  Is.  6-Jd  of  the 
7th  of  May.  The  king, — who  had  been  shut  up  in 
the  queen's  lodge  from  the  14th  of  February  to  the 
16th  of  March,  with  what  the  physicians  called  "  cold 
and  fever,"  but  which  we  now  know  to  have  been 
insanity, — was  again  trudging  early  to  the  dairy  at 
Frogmore ;  or  riding  at  a  very  gentle  pace  after  his 
harriers  ;  or  travelling  once  a  week  to  London  to 
meet  his  Council,  where  Mr.  Pitt  was  no  longer  the 
presiding  genius.  Our  loyal  people  said  that  the 
minister  had  justly  forfeited  the  favour  of  "  the  best 
of  kings,"  by  trying  to  make  him  violate  his  coro- 


A    PRELUDE.  29 

nation  oath.  To  me,  as  to  much  older 'persons,  the 
removal  of  a  great  statesman  from  the  government 
of  the  kingdom  was  less  important  than  the  things 
which  concerned  our  borough  and  parish ;  and  of  such 
was  our  Perambulation. 

Great  were  the  preparations  for  our  "  Rogation 
days  of  Procession."  Mindful  of  the  order  of  Queen 
Elizabeth,  that  the  curate  on  such  occasions  "  shall 
admonish  the  people  to  give  thanks  to  God  in  the 
beholding  of  God's  benefits,"  our  vicar  and  churchwar 
dens  were  solicitous  that  there  should  be  unusual 
store  of  benefits  to  behold.  And  so  it  is  recorded  in 
the  churchwardens'  "  Book  of  Benefactions  and 
Charities,"*  how  sundry  letters  were  written  to  the 
owners  and  occupiers  of  boundary  houses,  to  remind 
them  that,  in  former  times,  entertainment,  whether 
of  a  barrel  of  ale  and  bread  and  cheese,  or  a  "  gen 
teel"  dinner,  with  wine  to  correspond,  was  provided 
for  the  wayfarers,  rich  and  poor,  who  thus  laboured 
to  preserve  their  parish  rights  and  liberties.  Gene 
rous  were  the  answers  from  all,  except  from  the 
treasurer  to  the  College  of  Windsor,  "  who  cast  a 
damp  upon  the  business,  observing  that  it  was  a 
waste  of  victuals  and  viands  when  everything  was 
dear."  The  chronicle  of  the  perambulation  was  duly 
printed  for  the  edification  of  those  who  were  par 
takers  of  the  solemnity,  and  for  the  bewilderment  of 
all  future  topographers.  It  was  a  glorious  tenth  of 
May,  when,  after  morning  service  at  our  old  church, 
we  marched  from  the  Town  Hall  —  mayor,  vicar, 
curate,  charity  children,  inhabitants — two  and  two  ; 
boys  like  myself  clinging  to  their  fathers'  skirts. 

*  ' '  Annals  of  Windsor  ; "  by  Mr.  Tiglie  and  Mr.  Davis  Vol.  II., 
pp.  550  to  563. 


30  EARLY   REMINISCENCES  : 

We  came  to4 the  first  boundary  house,  at  the  bottom 
of  Peascod  Street.  The  psalm  was  sung ;  the  wine 
was  drunk  "  by  the  respectable  parts  of  the  com 
pany,"  according  to  the  record.  Then  comes  an 
entry,  which,  even  at  this  distance  of  time,. produces 
a  qualm  in  my  stomach  :  "  We  proceeded  northward, 
along  the  west  side  of  the  ditch ;  crossed  the  road 
in  Goswell  Lane  and  the  ditch  at  the  bottom  of 
George  Street  on  planks,  and  kept  the  drain  that 
runs  from  the  houses  in  Thames  Street."  All  the 
lower  parts  of  Windsor  were  then  drain  or  ditch. 
The  ditch — the  black  ditch — predominated.  Never 
was  there  such  a  sink  of  impurity  as  my  native 
town.  Those  pleasant  fields,  the  Goswells,  which 
in  winter  were  flooded,  were  in  spring,  summer, 
and  autumn,  pestilent  with  black  ditches.  The 
railroad  has  there  swept  away  these  horrors.  The 
authorities  have  also  found  out  that  the  smaller 
black  ditches  of  every  alley  have  a  tendency  to 
increase  the  poor's  rate.  But  in  my  early  days 
these  things  were  unheeded.  In  the  Bachelor's 
Acre  the  "little  victims"  played  by  the  side  of  a 
great  open  cesspool,  kept  brimming  and  overflowing 
by  drains  disgorging  from  every  street.  The  Court 
sniffed  this  filthy  reek.  In  the  fields  around  Frog- 
more  it  tainted  the  cowslip  and  the  hawthorn 
blossom.  Municipal  or  royal  dignitaries  never  in 
terfered  to  abate  or  remove  the  nuisance.  In  truth, 
the  word  nuisance  had  scarcely  then  found  a  place 
in  our  language  in  a  sanitary  sense.  Foul  ditches, 
crossed  on  planks,  scarcely  disturbed  the  usual  com 
placency  of  the  perambulators,  for  there  was  a 
dinner  in  prospect,  at  her  majesty's  house  at  Frog- 
more.  I  was  witk  my  father,  as  one  of  the  fa- 


A    PRELUDE.  31 

voured  guests  in  the  "  state  parlour,"  where  Major 
Price  presided.  The  churchwardens'  book  records 
that  "  a  gentleman  who  accompanied,  us  sung  a  song 
or  two,  by  permission."  How  well  I  remember  that 
facetious. song  of  the  "  learned  pig ;"  how  often  has 
it  been  brought  to  my  mind  in  recent  years,  in  the 
acquaintance  of  the  very  gentleman  who  sang  a  song 
or  two — the  indefatigable,  good-tempered,  self-satis 
fied,  pushing  and  puffing  John  Britton,  who,  then  in 
his  thirtieth  year,  was  at  Windsor,  occupied  in  a 
topographical  work  which  was  commencing  to  be 
published,  "  The  Beauties  of  England  and  Wales." 
He  is  gone,  having  done  good  service  in  his  day  by 
wedding  archaeology  to  a  high  style  of  illustrative 
art.  The  Frogmore  dinner  was  over.  I  was  tired ;  but 
perambulating  was  too  pleasant  to  be  readily  relin 
quished.  The  next  day  I  was  tramping  by  the  side 
of  a  "  bosky  bourn "  to  Cranbourn,  then  a  lodge, 
which  I  had  been  told  had  as  many  windows  as 
there  are  days  in  the  year.  How  changed  is  all  this 
forest  scene  !  The  lodge  has  been  demolished.  Many 
of  the  grand  old  sapless  oaks  have  been  hewn 
down.  New  plantations  cover  the  plain  which  was 
sixty  years  ago  a  wilderness  of  fern.  The  beauty  of 
the  district  is  more  ornate  than  of  old.  But  nothing 
can  destroy 'the  noble  features  of  the  site  of  Cran 
bourn,  whether  called  Great  Park  or  Forest.  Another 
royal  dinner  solaced  our  second  day's  march.  The 
third  day's  perambulation  took  us  to  Surly  Hall  and 
The  Willows — familiar  scenes  to  every  Etonian.  The 
Church  was  not  as  bountiful  as  the  Crown  when  we 
had  returned  to  the  boundary  house  at  the  foot  of 
the  Hundred  Steps.  The  dean  and  canons  had  pro 
vided,  it  is  chronicled,  "a  dinner  and  a  dozen  of  wine." 


32  EARLY    REMINISCENCES  I 

Our  way  to  the  Town  Hall  was  up  the  narrow 
Thames-street,  the  whole  castle  side  of  the  road  from 
the  Hundred  Steps  to  Henry  the  Eighth's  gateway 
being  then,  and  long  after,  crowded  with  houses. 
Some  of  the  meanest  character,  and  with  the  most 
disreputable  occupiers,  were  the  property  of  no  one, 
but  were  tenanted  under  what  was  termed  "  key- 
hold."  They  have  all  been  swept  away.  The  rubbish 
that  grew  up  under  the  castle  walls  has  been  cleared, 
even  as  the  social  rubbish  has  been  cleared  which 
hid  a  good  deal  of  the  grandeur  of  our  Constitutional 
Monarchy. 

About  this  period  my  father  took  me  to  London. 
The  journey  from  our  town  to  the  White  Horse 
Cellar  in  Piccadilly  was  satisfactorily  performed  in 
the  usual  time  of  five  hours,  and  a  little  more.  As 
the  night  had  closed  in,  I  stood  at  the  door  of  the 
well-accustomed  hotel,  and  looked  with  unspeakable 
wonder  upon  the  long  line  of  brilliancy  to  the  east 
and  to  the  west.  Our  lamps,  few  and  far  between, 
were  as  farthing  rushlights  compared  to  this  blaze 
from  patent  reflectors.  I  knew  not  that  even  this 
radiance  would,  like  the  glowworm  in  the  matin 
light,  "  pale  its  uneffectual  fire,"  by  the  side  of  the 
illumination  without  oil  or  wick.  I  saw  the  sights 
which  most  boys  were  then  taken  to  see,  such  as  the 
jewels  in  the  Tower,  and  the  wax- work  in  the  Abbey. 
But  for  one  sight  I  was  unprepared.  I  was  led  along 
a  somewhat  dark  passage  up  a  narrow  stair ;  and 
there — (oh  !  that  my  mind  could  ever  again  feel,  at 
the  contemplation  of  the  most  sublime  or  the  most 
beautiful  object  of  nature,  as  it  felt  at  that  moment) 
— there  lay  my  beloved  Windsor,  stretched  at  my 
feet.  I  screamed  with  an  agony  of  pleasure.  I 


A    PRELUDE.  33 

knew  that  I  was  in  London  ;  but  there  were  spread 
before  me  the  park,  where  I  was  wont  to  play;  the 
terraces,  where  I  had  used  to  gaze  upon  the  distant 
hills ;  the  river,  whose  osier  bowers  were  as  familiar 
to  me  as  my  own  little  garden  ;  the  steep  and  narrow 
streets,  which  I  then  thought  the  perfection  of  archi 
tecture  ;  the  very  house  in  which  I  was  born.  I  rubbed 
my  eyes  ;  I  was  awake  ;  the  scene  was  still  there. 
I  strained  my  ears,  and  I  fancied  I  could  hear  the 
cawing  of  the  rooks  in  those  old  towers.  It  was  with 
difficulty  that  I  could  be  dragged  away ;  and  when  I 
came  out  into  the  garish  sunshine  of  Leicester 
Square,  and  saw  the  bustling  crowds,  and  heard  the 
din  of  the  anxious  city,  I  was  reluctantly  convinced 
that  I  had  looked  upon  a  picture,  called  a  panorama. 
The  bird's-eye  representation,  in  one  compact  group 
ing,  of  objects  which  I  had  previously  looked  upon 
singly,  has  left  an  impression  upon  my  memory 
which  will  assist  me  in  tracing  one  of  my  own  boyish 
perambulations  about  Windsor  Castle. 

It  is  the  Saturday  half-holiday  at  my  day-school. 
The  afternoon  is  bright  and  frosty.  The  rains  which 
have  flooded  the  low  lands  of  the  Thames  have 
ceased.  I  can  again  ramble  in  the  upper  park. 
Castle  Street,  in  which  I  live,  has  a  continuation  of 
houses  up  to  the  Queen's  Lodge,  in  which  the  King 
dwells  at  his  Castle  foot.  There  is  nothing  to  sepa 
rate  the  Castle  Hill  from  the  town  but  a  small 
gateway,  which  bears  the  inscription,  "Elizabethan 
Reginae,  xiii.,  1572."  Beyond  the  gate  are  substan 
tial  houses,  inhabited  by  good  families.  In  one  of 
those  near  the  Lodge  once  dwelt  Mrs.  Delany,  at 
whose  door  the  King  would  unceremoniously  enter,  as 
he  entered  in  a  December  twilight  and  caught  Fanny 


34  EARLY   REMINISCENCES  I 

Burney  playing  at  puss-in-the-corner.  This  house  is 
shut  up  in  these  my  early  school  days.  It  is 
haunted,  and  the  fact  is  proved  by  a  broken  win 
dow-pane,  through  which  the  sentry  had  thrust  his 
bayonet  when  he  saw  the  apparition.  I  pass  the 
railings  which  enclose  the  lawn  before  the  Lodge, 
and  I  reach  the  iron  gates  which  terminate  the  road. 
No  gate-keeper  is  there  to  bar  the  entrance  even  of 
beggars  and  vagrants.  There  is  an  old  half-crazy 
woman  in  an  oil-skin  coat,  who  opens  the  gate  in 
the  hope  of  a  halfpenny.  Such  is  the  "  state  and 
ancientry"  upon  which  the  inmates  of  the  royal 
Lodge  look  out.  School  boys,  with  their  kites  and 
hoops  and  cricket-bats,  have  free  admission  through 
these  gates.  It  is  the  common  footpath  to  Datchet. 
There  is  another  footpath  which  leads  to  the  dairy 
at  Frogmore,  of  which  I  may  hereafter  speak.  I 
walk  by  the  well-trodden  Datchet  path  to  the  edge 
of  the  table-land  forming  the  north  side  of  the  upper 
park,  and  I  reach  the  descent,  winding  amidst  old 
thorns  and  oaks,  called  Dod's  Hill.  My  onward 
walk  is  stopped,  for  the  lower  park  is  flooded.  I 
turn  back  and  mount  the  broad  flight  of  steps  which 
lead  to  the  south  terrace.  This  is  no  privileged 
region  for  maids  of  honour  and  lords  of  the  bed 
chamber  alone  to  enjoy.  The  entire  terrace  is  free 
to  the  commonalty.  The  town  boys  here  play  at 
follow  my  leader,  and  fearlessly  run  along  the  parapet, 
whether  on  the  south,  the  east,  or  the  north  sides. 
No  one  looks  out  of  windows  draperied  or  undraperied, 
for  no  one  dwells  there,  except,  on  the  north  side, 
Mr.  James  Wyatt,  the  Surveyor-General.  He  has 
been  busy  about  the  Castle  for  a  year  or  two.  A  few 
of  the  mean  circular-headed  windows — by  which  the 


A   PEELUDE.  35 

upper  court  was  deformed,  when  Wren,  at  the  com 
mand  of  Charles  II.,  tried  to  obliterate  the  old  fort 
ress  character  of  the  buildings — are  being  gothicised. 
The  Star  building  on  the  north  terrace  is  undergoing 
the  same  process.  The  patchwork  system  of  improve 
ments  which  is  going  forward,  a  window  at  a  time, 
appears  very  unlike  the  exercise  of  a  royal  will. 
The  war  absorbs  the  revenues  of  the  State,  leaving 
little  or  nothing  for  art.  I  come  up  the  paltry 
wooden  stairs  that  lead  from  the  north  terrace.  I 
look  into  the  Quadrangle,  which  is  solitary  and  silent, 
except  where  a  stonemason  or  two  are  at  work.  I 
pass  through  the  Norman  gateway,  by  the  brick 
wall  of  the  Round  Tower  garden,  to  a  pile  of  ugly 
buildings — the  guard-house,  and  its  canteen,  the 
Royal  Standard.  Adjoining  the  Deanery  is  a  ruinous 
building  called  Wolsey's  Tomb-house.  St.  George's 
Chapel  has  been  restored  and  beautified ;  but  this 
building  has  been  neglected  since  the  days  of  James 
the  Second,  when  it  was  a  Roman  Catholic  Chapel. 
I  come  home  through  Henry  the  Eighth's  gateway, 
the  rooms  of  which,  then,  or  a  little  before,  were  used 
as  a  Court  of  Record,  whose  jurisdiction  extended  over 
the  forest  of  Windsor  comprising  many  parishes. 
Here,  under  the  arch,  was  the  prison  of  this  "  Castle 
Court,"  which  in  1790  was  described  as  a  disgrace 
to  the  sight  and  to  the  feelings.  I  have  seen  the 
grated  windows  of  this  prison,  which  was  called  "  the 
Colehouse."  At  the  beginning  of  the  century  it  was 
converted  into  a  guard-room. 

From  the  circumstance  that  there  was  no  carriage- 
road  from  the  Castle  or  the  Queen's  Lodge,  except 
through  the  town,  it  resulted  that  the  King  and  his 
family  were  for  ever  in  the  public  eye.  There  was  a 


36  EARLY   REMINISCENCES  : 

lawn  behind  the  Lodge  in  which  their  privacy  would 
be  undisturbed ;  but  there  was  no  other  place  in 
which  strangers  or  neighbours,  might  .not  gaze  upon 
them  or  jostle  them.  The  propinquity  of  the  town, 
and  the  constant  passage  of  the  royal  carriages  through 
the  town,  made  every  movement  of  the  Court  familiar 
to  the  lieges.  Royalty  lived  in  a  glass  house.  There 
was  no  restraint  in  these  movements.  What  the 
gossiping  and  inquiring  gentleman  who  dwelt  up  the 
hill  said  and  did ;  how  his  daughters  were  dressed, 
and  how  they  nodded  to  their  friend,  the  linen-draper, 
as  he  bowed  at  his  shop-door ;  how  the  good  man's 
lady  was  somewhat  more  reserved,  but  always  gracious 
— these  matters  mixed  themselves  up  as  familiarly 
with  the  town  talk  as  if  the  personages  were  the 
squire  of  the  village  and  his  family,  who  sat  in  the 
great  pew  every  Sunday.  Out  of  the  observation  of 
this  antiquated  publicity  was  Peter  Pindar  made. 

"  The  works  of  the  sublime  bard  are  sold  publicly 
at  Windsor."  Thus  writes  this  once-famous  Dr. 
Wolcott  of  his  own  ribald  lyrics,  which  he  says  "  are 
now  in  the  library  at  the  Queen's  palace  ; "  adding, 
"  his  Majesty  has  written  notes  on  the  odes."  As  I 
remember,  there  was  no  secresy  observed  in  the  sale 
of  these  popular  satires,  although  they  might,  per 
chance,  come  under  the  notice  of  the  illustrious 
objects  of  their  ridicule, 

"  Who  down  at  Windsor  daily  go  a-shopping, 
Their  heads,  right  royal,  into  houses  popping." 

In  rny  boyish  experience  I  never  sa,w  the  King 
accompanying  the  Queen  and  Princesses  in  their 
frequent  visits  to  the  shops  of  Windsor.  The  prints 
in  which  the  royal  pair  are  represented  as  haggling 


A    PRELUDE.  37 

with  their  tradesmen,  and  cheapening  their  merchan 
dise,  were  the  productions  of  fifteen  years  before  the 
opening  of  the  nineteenth  century.  But  I  have  often 
bowed  to  George  III.  in  the  upper  park,  as  he  walked 
to  his  dairy  at  Frogmore,  and  passed  me  as  I  was 
hunting  for  mushrooms  in  the  short  grass  on  some 
dewy  morning.  He  had  an  extraordinary  faculty  of 
recognizing  everybody,  young  or  old  ;  and  he  knew 
something  of  the  character  and  affairs  of  most  persons 
who  lived  under  the  shadow  of  his  castle.  There  was 
ever  a  successor  to  the  famous  court  barber, 

"  Eamus,  called  Billy  by  the  best  of  kings," 

who  could  retail  the  current  scandal  of  our  "  Little 
Pedlington,"  as  he  presided  over  the  royal  toilet. 
The  scandal  was  forgotten  with  the  laugh  which  it 
excited. 

My  early  familiarity  with  the  person  of  George  III. 
might  have  abated  something  in  my  mind  of  the 
divinity  which  doth  hedge  a  king  ;  but  it  has  left  an 
impression  of  the  homely  kindness  of  his  nature, 
which  no  subsequent  knowledge  of  his  despotic  ten 
dencies,  his  cherished  political  hatreds,  and  his  obsti 
nate  prejudices  as  a  sovereign,  can  make  me  lay 
aside.  There  was  a  magnanimity  about  the  man  in 
his  forgetfulness  of  the  petty  offences  of  very  humble 
people,  who  did  not  come  across  his  will,  although 
they  might  appear  indiscreet  or  even  dangerous  in 
their  supposed  principles.  Sir  Richard  Phillips,  with 
somewhat  of  a  violation  of  confidence,  printed  in  his 
"  Monthly  Magazine "  an  anecdote  of  George  III. 
which  was  told  him  by  my,  father.  Soon  after  the 
publication  of  Paine's  "  Rights  of  Man,"  in  1791, 
— before  the  work  was  declared  libellous, — the  King 


38  EARLY  REMINISCENCES: 

was  wandering  about  Windsor  early  on  a  summer 
morning, and  was  heard  calling  out "  Knight,  Knight!" 
in  the  shop  whose  shutters  were  just  opened.  My 
father  made  his  appearance  as  quickly  as  possible,  at 
the  sound  of  the  well-known  voice,  and  he  beheld 
his  Majesty  quietly  seated,  reading  with  marked 
attention.  Late  on  the  preceding  evening  a  parcel 
from  Paternoster  Row  had  been  opened,  and  its 
miscellaneous  contents  were  exposed  on  the  counter. 
Horror  !  the  King  has  taken  up  the  dreadful  "  Bights 
of  Man,"  which  advocated  the  French  Revolution  in 
reply  to  Burke.  Absorbed  Majesty  continued  reading 
for  half  an  hour.  The  King  went  away  without 
a  remark ;  but  he  never  afterwards  expressed  his 
displeasure,  or  withdrew  his  countenance.  Peter 
Pindar's  incessant  endeavours  to  represent  the  King 
as  a  garrulous  simpleton  were  more  likely  to  provoke 
the  laughter  of  his  family,  than  to  suggest  any  desire 
to  stifle  the  poor  jests  by  those  terrors  of  the  law 
which  might  have  been  easily  commanded.  It  was 
the  same  with  the  people.  The  amusements  which 
the  satirist  ridiculed,  when  he  told  of  a  monarch 

"  Who  rams,  and  ewes,  and  lambs,  and  bullocks  fed," 

were  pursuits  congenial  to  the  English  taste,  and  not 
incompatible  with  the  most  diligent  performance  of 
public  duty.  The  daubs  of  the  caricaturist  pro 
voked  no  contempt  for  "Farmer  George  and  his 
Wife."  The  sneers  of  the  rhymester  at  "  sharp  and 
prudent  economic  kings," — at  the  parsimony  which 
prescribed  that  at  the  breaking  up  of  a  royal  card 
party  "  the  candles  should  be  immediately  blown 
out," — fell  harmless  upon  Windsor  ears.  Blowing 
out  of  wax  candles,  leaving  the  guests  or  congre- 


A    PttELUDB.  39 

gation  in  the  dark,  was  the  invariable  practice  of 
royal  and  ecclesiastical  officials.  At  St.  George's 
Chapel,  the  instant  the  benediction  was  pronounced, 
vergers  and  choristers  blew  out  the  lights.  Per 
quisites  were  the  law  of  all  service.  The  good- 
natured  King  respected  the  law  as  one  of  our  insti 
tutions.  He  dined  early.  The  Queen  dined  at  an 
hour  then  deemed  late.  He  wrote  or  read  in  his  own 
uncarpeted  room,  till  the  time  when  he  joined  his 
family  in  the  drawing-room.  One  evening,  on  a 
sudden  recollection,  he  went  back  to  his  library. 
The  wax-candles  were  still  burning.  When  he 
returned,  the  page,  whose  especial  duty  was  about 
the  King's  person,  followed  his  Majesty  in,  and  was 
thus  addressed,  "  Clarke,  Clarke,  you  should  mind 
your  perquisites.  /  blew  out  the  candles."  The 
King's  savings  were  no  savings  to  the  nation.  In 
1812  it  was  stated  in  the  House  of  Commons  that 
the  wax  lights  for  Windsor  Castle  cost  ten  thousand 
a  year. 

There  were  abundant  opportunities  for  every 
stranger  to  gaze  upon  the  King  and  his  family.  The 
opportunities  were  so  abundant  that  his  Majesty's 
neighbours  of  Windsor  did  not  manifest  any  great 
solicitude  to  look  upon  the  royal  person.  Duly  every 
Wednesday  his  travelling  carriage  passed  down  the 
Castle  Hill,  preceded  and  followed  by  some  twenty 
light  horse.  A  council  or  a  leve'e  at  St.  James's 
demanded  the  royal  presence.  I  remember  that  his 
Majesty's  saddler  stood  at  his  door  in  a  cocked  hat 
and  bowed  most  reverentially,  on  these  weekly  jour- 
neyings.  Once  a  month  the  King  went  to  receive 
the  recorder's  report, — that  awful  duty  of  which  great 
statesmen  and  lawyers  then  thought  so  lightly. 


40  EARLY   REMINISCENCES  I 

Seldom  were  there  fewer  than  four  or  six  convicts, 
male  and  female,  left  for  execution.  That  all  should 
be  respited  is  chronicled  as  a  rare  occurrence.  The 
severe  administration  of  the  law  produced  no  dimi 
nution  of  crime.  In  those  days  we  lived  in  fear  of 
highwaymen  and  footpads.  Three  gentlemen  from 
the  City — bearing  the  well-known  names  of  Hellish, 
Bosanquet,  and  Pole,  potentates  in  the  money  market 
— were  nattered  by  his  Majesty's  attention  to  them  in 
commanding  that  a  deer  of  much  speed  and  bottom 
should  be  turned  out  for  their  diversion  at  Langley 
Broom.  The  party  hilariously  dined  at  Salt  Hill, 
after  a  glorious  run.  On  their  return,  when  near 
the  Magpies  on  Hounslow  Heath  they  were  robbed 
by  three  footpads.  Not  content  with  their  plunder, 
one  of  the  robbers  fired  a  pistol  into  the  carriage. 
The  ball  entered  the  forehead  of  Mr.  Mellish,  and 
he  died  at  the  Magpies.  Hounslow  Heath,  Maiden 
head  Thicket,  Langley  Broom,  were  the  resorts 
of  desperadoes,  who  clustered  round  Windsor  as 
brigands  still  cluster  round  Rome.  At  the  root  of 
the  evil  in  England  was  the  inefficient  and  corrupt 
administration  of  the  lesser  functionaries.  In  the 
Papal  States  brigandage  is  only  a  part  of  the  general 
misrule.  Robbers,  with  us,  escaped  till  the  police- 
officer  could  obtain  his  "blood-money,"  the  measure 
of  the  marauder's  iniquity  being  full.  Terror  had  no 
permanent  influence.  In  the  "Annual  Register" 
for  1799  is  this  record  :  "  Haines  has  been  hung  in 
chains  on  Hounslow  Heath  between  the  two  roads." 
In  1804,  as  I  was  riding  home  from  school,  the  man 
who  accompanied  me  proposed  to  show  me  something 
curious.  Between  the  two  roads,  near  a  clamp  of 
firs,  was  a  gibbet,  on  which  two  bodies  hung  in 


A   PRELUDE.  41 

chains.  The  chains  rattled ;  the  iron  plates  scarcely 
held  the  gibbet  together ;  the  rags  of  the  highway 
men  displayed  their  horrible  skeletons.  That  was  a 
holiday  sight  for  a  schoolboy,  sixty  years  ago  ! 

The  most  attractive  of  all  the  gatherings  of  crowds 
to  gaze  on  royalty  was  the  Terrace.  Before 'the 
Castle  was  inhabited  by  the  King  and  his  family,  the 
music-room  on  the  eastern  side  had  been  fitted  up, 
and  here  the  Court  repaired  on  Sunday  evenings. 
Dr.  Burney,  writing  to  his  daughter  Fanny  (then 
Madame  D'Arblay)  in  July,  1799,  has  a  most  enthu 
siastic  appreciation  of  the  joys  of  Windsor  Terrace. 
"  I  never  saw  it  more  crowded  or  gay.  The  Park 
was  almost  full  of  happy  people — farmers,  servants, 
tradespeople,  all  in  Elysium."  On  the  Terrace  he 
walked  amidst  a  crowd  of  "  the  first  people  in  the 
kingdom  for  rank  and  office All  was  cheerful 
ness,  gaiety,  and  good  humour,  such  as  the  subjects 
of  no  other  monarch,  I  believe,  on  earth  enjoy  at 
present."  Thus  "  voir  tout  couleur  de  rose"  makes 
life  move  pleasantly  even  to  such  as  Dr.  Burney,  who 
had  been  doomed  "  in  suing  long  to  bide."  He  was 
perhaps  seeking  no  advancement  in  1799  ;  but  in 
1786  he  had  been  sagaciously  advised  to  walk  upon 
the  Terrace.  "  The  King  will  understand."  The 
crowd  of  "  the  first  people  in  the  kingdom  "  had  many 
of  them  the  same  belief  in  the  sagacity  of  the  King. 
The  dean  was  there,  looking  for  a  bishopric  ;  the  rich 
incumbent  was  there,  looking  for  a  deanery  ;  the 
pluralist  was  there,  looking  for  a  richer  benefice  than 
his  smaller  one  of  poor  five  hundred  a  year.  It  was 
a  time  when  the  Crown  had  more  to  say  in  the  choice 
of  church  dignitaries,  and  in  the  mode  of  disposing 
of  rich  livings,  than  in  the  present  degenerate  times, 


42  EARLY   REMINISCENCES  : 

when  the  chancellor  and  the  prime  minister  have 
advisers  to  regulate  their  patronage  upon  parliamen 
tary  principles.  The  Terrace,  at  the  beginning  of 
the  present  century,  was  not  strictly  an  institution 
that  was  in  accordance  with  the  ordinary  religious 
habits  of  the  King's  life.  As  carriage  after  carriage 
rolled  up  the  Castle  Hill,  until  a  file  of  carriages, 
having  discharged  their  aristocratic  occupants,  filled 
the  space  from  the  Terrace  steps  to  the  centre  of  the 
town,  there  were  unquestionably  such  violations  of 
Sunday  observances  as  Bishop  Porteus  remonstrated 
against  and  Wilberforce  groaned  over.  There  were 
many  anomalies  in  those  days,  and  this  was  one  of 
them.  I  thought  little  then  of  such  matters.  I  sat 
upon  the  low  Terrace  wall ;  listened  to  the  two  bands 
— the  Queen's  and  that  of  the  Staffordshire  Militia ; 
wondered  at  garters  upon  gouty  legs,  and  at  great 
lords  looking  like  valets  in  the  Windsor  uniform ;  saw 
the  sun  go  down  as  the  gay  company  dispersed,  and 
was  gratified,  if  not  altogether  "in  Elysium." 

On  one  of  these  occasions — it  was  in  1804 — I  saw 
Mr.  Pitt.  He  was  waiting  among  the  crowd  till 
the  time  when  the  King  and  Queen  should  come 
forth  from  a  small  side-door,  and  descend  the  steps 
which  led  to  the  level  of  the  Eastern  Terrace.  A 
queer  position  this  for  the  man  who  was  at  that 
moment  the  arbiter  of  European  affairs  ;  who  was  to 
decide  whether  continental  kings  were  to  draw  their 
swords  at  the  magical  word  "  Subsidy ; "  upon  whom 
a  few  were  looking  with  sorrow  in  the  belief  that  he 
had  forfeited  the  pledge  he  had  given  when  England 
and  Ireland  became  an  United  Kingdom,  and  whom 
the  many  regarded  as  the  pilot  who  had  come  to  his 
senses,  and  who  could  now  be  trusted  with  the  vessel 


A   FKELUDE.  43 

of  the  state  in  the  becalmed  waters  of  intolerance. 
Soon  was  the  minister  walking  side  by  side  with  the 
sovereign,  who,  courageous  as  he  was,  had  a  dread  of 
his  great  servant  till  he  had  manacled  him.  It  was 
something  to  me,  even  this  once,  to  have  seen  Mr, 
Pitt.  The  face  and  figure  and  deportment  of  the 
man  gave  a  precision  to  my  subsequent  conception  of 
him  as  one  of  the  realities  of  history.  The  immo 
bility  of  those  features,  the  erectness  of  that  form, 
told  of  one  born  to  command.  The  loftiness  and 
breadth  of  the  forehead  spoke  of  sagacity  and  firm 
ness — the  quick  eye,  of  eloquent  promptitude — the 
nose  (I  cannot  pass  over  that  remarkable  feature, 
though  painters  and  sculptors  failed  to  repro 
duce  it),  the  nose,  somewhat  twisted  out  of  the 
perpendicular,  made  his  enemies  say  his  face  was  as 
crooked  as  his  policy.  I  saw  these  characteristics, 
or  had  them  pointed  out  to  me  afterwards.  But  the 
smile,  revealing  the  charm  of  his  inner  nature — that 
was  to  win  the  love  of  his  intimates,  but  it  was  not 
for  vulgar  observation. 

Loudly  and  rapidly  did  his  Majesty  always  talk  as 
the  royal  cortege  moved  up  and  down,  amidst  the 
double  line  of  his  subjects  duteously  bowing  or  curt 
seying,  and  graciously  rewarded  with  nods  and  smiles 
from  Queen  and  Princesses  when  any  familiar  face 
was  recognised.  "  How  do  you  do,  Dr.  Burney  ? "  said 
the  King,  "  Why,  you  are  grown  fat  and  young !  Why, 
you  used  to  be  as  thin  as  Dr.  Lind."  What  mattered 
it  to  Dr.  Lind,  who  was  close  at  hand,  that  crowds, 
noble  or  plebeian,  should  then  direct  their  eyes  to  the 
tall  gentleman,  who  is  described  by  Dr.  Burney  as  "  a 
mere  lath "  ?  From  my  early  years  was  the  person 
well  known  to  me  of  that  good  physician.  He  inter- 


44  EARLY   REMINISCENCES  : 

csted  me,  as  I  learnt  that  he  had  been  round  the 
world  with  Captain  Cook.  He  had  stood  at  my  bed 
side  with  another  friend,  Mr.  Battiscomb,  the  royal 
apothecary,  as  I  hovered  between  life  and  death ; 
when,  as  my  good  nurse  afterwards  told  me,  she 
thought  it  was  all  over,  for  they  shook  their  heads 
and  talked  Latin.  Miss  Burney  writes  of  Dr.  Lind, 
in  1785,  "  He  is  married  and  settled  here,  and  follows, 
as  much  as  he  can  get  practice,  his  profession ;  but 
his  taste  for  tricks,  conundrums,  and  queer  things, 
makes  people  fearful  of  his  trying  experiments  upon 
their  constitutions,  and  think  him  a  better  conjuror 
than  physician."  He  has  often  charmed  me  with  a 
sight  of  his  "  queer  things."  Mr.  Hogg  has,  within 
the  last  few  years,  given  currency  to  a  somewhat 
incredible  story  that  Shelley  imputed  to  Dr.  Lind 
his  initiation,  when  an  Eton  boy,  into  the  reasons 
for  hating  kings  and  priests,  even  as  the  Wind 
sor  physician  hated  them.  Perhaps  Shelley,  who 
was  credulous  in  worldly  matters,  as  are  most  scep 
tics  in  religion,  believed  that  the  mysterious  little 
books  which  Dr.  Lind  printed  from  characters  which 
he  called  "Lindian  Ogham,"  cut  by  himself  into 
strange  fashions  from  battered  printing  types  which 
my  father  gave  him,  were  the  secret  modes  by  which 
the  illuminati  corresponded,  even  under  the  very  eye 
of  the  Court.  I  doubt  whether  he  were  conjuror 
enough  to  make  the  shrewd  George  III.  mistake 
covert  Jacobinism  for  ostentatious  loyalty. 

There  were  eminent  men  living  at  Windsor  and  in 
the  neighbourhood,  from  whom  I  occasionally  ob 
tained  glimpses  of  knowledge  beyond  my  ordinary 
routine  of  imperfect  scheol  instruction.  My  father 
took  me  to  see  the  great  telescope  of  Dr.  Herschel  at 


A   PRELUDE.  45 

Slough.  The  clear  explanations  of  the  celebrated 
astronomer  filled  me  with  wonder,  if  they  went  be 
yond  my  comprehension.  The  venerable  philosopher, 
Jean  Andre  de  Luc  (I  believe  it  was  somewhat  later), 
showed  me  a  galvanic  pile  which  he  had  constructed, 
and  astonished  me  by  causing  the  mysterious  agency 
to  ring  a  little  bell.  M.  Porny,  who  had  been  French 
master  at  Eton,  and  whose  grammar  and  exercises 
my  father  printed  for  the  London  publishers,  would 
occasionally  come  to  see  us,  and  would  talk  with  a 
kindly  interest  about  my  small  acquirements.  I  have 
an  earlier  remembrance  of  another  amiable  foreigner, 
the  Rev.  Charles  de  Guiffardiere,  for  whom  my  father 
was  printing  a  French  work  on  Ancient  History  for  the 
private  use  of  the  Royal  Family — a  gentleman  whom 
Miss  Burney  held  up  to  ridicule  in  her  Diary,  as  Mr. 
Turbulent.  But — must  I  confess  it  ? — I  am  inclined 
to  believe  that  the  stage  did  for  the  enlargement  of 
my  mind  something  more  than  school  lessons — some 
thing  more  than  these  rare  opportunities  of  listening 
to  the  conversation  of  men  of  learning  and  ability. 
From  my  eighth  year  upwards,  I  could  always  obtain 
a  free  admission  to  that  smallest  of  playhouses,  the 
Theatre  Royal  of  Windsor,  where  Majesty  oft  was 
delighted  to  recreate  itself  with  hearty  laughs  at  the 
comic  stars  of  sixty  years  since.  Tragedy  was  not  to 
the  King's  taste.  Miss  Burney  has  recorded  how  he 
appreciated  the  dramatist  whose  Hamlet  and  Bene 
dick  were  sometimes  here  personated  by  Elliston  ; 
and  whose  Richard  III.  Cooke  coarsely  but  powerfully 
enacted  on  this  stage :  "  Was  there  ever  such  stuff 
as  great  part  of  Shakspere  ?  only  one  must  not 
say  so  !  But  what  think  you  ?  What  ?  Is  there  not 
sad  stuff?  What?  What?"  George  III.  has  had 


46  EARLY    REMINISCENCES  I 

supporters  in  this  opinion  where  we  might  scarcely 
look  for  them.  I  have  heard  one  such  heretic,  whose 
intellectual  dimensions  would  appear  gigantic  in 
comparison  with  those  of  the  King,  say  of  the  writer 

of  the  sad  stuff,  "  D •  and  I  always  call  him  Silly 

Billy."  The  publicity  of  which  I  have  spoken  was, 
in  the  Windsor  Theatre,  carried  to  its  extremest 
limit.  That  honoured  playhouse  no  longer  exists. 
The  High  Street  exhibits  a  dissenting  chapel  on  its 
site,  whose  frontage  may  give  some  notion  of  the 
dimensions  of  that  cosy  apartment,  with  its  two  tier 
of  boxes,  its  gallery,  and  its  slips.  It  was  not  an 
exclusive  theatre.  Three  shillings  gave  the  entrance 
to  the  boxes,  two  shillings  to  the  pit,  and  one  shilling 
to  the  gallery.  One  side  of  the  lower  tier  of  boxes 
was  occupied  by  the  Court.  The  King  and  Queen 
sat  in  capacious  arm-chairs,  with  satin  playbills 
spread  before  them.  The  orchestra,  which  would 
hold  half  a  dozen  fiddlers,  and  the  pit,  where  some 
dozen  persons  might  be  closely  packed  on  each  bench, 
separated  the  royal  circle  from  the  genteel  parties  in 
the  opposite  tier  of  boxes.  With  the  plebeians  in  the 
pit  the  Royal  Family  might  have  shaken  hands  ;  and 
when  they  left,  there  was  always  a  scramble  for  their 
satin  bills,  which  would  be  afterwards  duly  framed 
and  glazed  as  spoils  of  peace.  As  the  King  laughed 
and  cried,  "  Bravo,  Quick  ! "  or  "  Bravo,  Suett !  " — for 
he  had  rejoiced  in  their  well-known  mirth-provoking 
faces  many  a  time  before, — the  pit  and  gallery  clapped 
and  roared  in  loyal  sympathy :  the  boxes  were  too  gen 
teel  for  such  emotional  feelings.  As  the  King,  Queen, 
and  Princesses  retired  at  the  end  of  the  third  act,  to 
sip  their  coffee,  the  pot  of  Windsor  ale,  called  Queen's 
ale,  circulated  in  the  gallery.  At  eleven  o'clock  the 


A   PRELUDE.  47 

curtain  dropped.  The  fiddles  struck  up  "God  save  the 
King;"  their  Majesties  bowed  around  as  the  house 
clapped ;  and  the  gouty  manager,  Mr.  Thornton,  lead 
ing  the  way  to  the  entrance  (carrying  wax-lights  and 
walking  backward  with  the  well-practised  steps  of  a 
Lord  Chamberlain),  the  flambeaux  of  three  or  four 
carriages  gleamed  through  the  dimly  lighted  streets, 
and  Royalty  was  quickly  at  rest. 

Our  theatre  was  only  open  at  the  Eton  vacations. 
But  there,  whether  the  King  and  Queen  were  present 
or  not,  I  obtained  something  like  a  peep  into  the  outer 
world — the  world  beyond  the  little  orb  of  my  country 
town.  For  the  Royal  Windsor  was  essentially  a  country 
town  of  the  narrowest  range  of  observation,  and  the 
tiniest  circle  of  knowledge.  The  people  vegetated, 
although  living  amidst  a  continual  din  of  Royalty 
going  to  and  fro — of  bell-ringing  for  birthdays — of 
gun-firing  for  victories — of  reviews  in  the  Park — of 
the  relief  of  the  guard,  with  all  pomp  of  military 
music — of  the  chapel  bell  tolling  twice  a  day, 
unheeded  by  few  besides  official  worshippers — of 
crowding  to  the  Terrace  on  Sunday  evenings — of 
periodical  holidays,  such  as  Ascot  races  and  Egham 
races — of  rare  festivities,  such  as  a  fete  at  Frogmore. 
The  "  loyal,"  or  the  "  independent "  voters  of  Wind 
sor,  as  they  were  styled  in  election  bills  by  rival  can 
didates,  were  fierce  in  their  partisanship,  but  there 
was  no  real  principle  at  the  root  of  their  differences. 
Through  1801  they  were  preparing,  by  rounds  of 
treating,  for  an  expected  election,  which  occurred  in 
1802  ;  when  the  Court  candidate  was  returned  by  a 
large  majority,  and  the  one  who  bribed  highest  of 
two  "independent"  candidates  was  also  returned, 
but  was  finally  unseated  by  a  parliamentary  com- 


48  EARLY   REMINISCENCES  '. 

mittee.  Those  who  did  not  receive  bribes  were  never 
scrupulous  about  administering  them.  Corruption 
was  an  open  and  almost  a  legitimate  trade,  as  I  occa 
sionally  learnt  from  the  talk  of  those  around  me. 
The  Court  was  an  indirect  party  to  the  corruption,  by 
installing  two  of  the  most  influential  of  the  plebeian 
partisans  into  the  snug  retirement  of  the  ancient 
foundation  of  the  Poor  Knights  of  Windsor.  The 
institution  had  lost  its  character  of  "Milites  Pau- 
peres ;"  and  tailors  and  victuallers  were  not  held  to 
desecrate  it.  In  spite  of  all  this  laxity  of  political 
morals,  the  people  amongst  whom  I  was  thrown 
were,  for  the  most  part,  of  honourable  private  cha 
racter.  It  was  a  period  when  there  was  less  compe 
tition  amongst  tradesmen  than  in  the  present  day. 
There  were,  consequently,  fewer  of  what  we  now 
regard  as  the  common  tricks  of  trade.  They  sold  the 
article  which  they  professed  to  sell ;  and  were 
offended  if  they  were  asked  to  abate  their  price. 
The  few  gentry  were  patronising,  with  a  certain 
friendliness.  The  many  clergy  of  the  two  colleges 
had  somewhat  haughty  brows  under  their  shovel 
hats,  but  were  charitable  and  not  very  intolerant. 
The  distinction  between  the  trading  and  the  profes 
sional  classes  was  not  so  nicely  preserved  as  it  is  now. 
Respectability  was  the  quality  more  aimed  at  by  the 
attorney  and  the  doctor  than  what  we  call  gentility ; 
and  respectability  did  not  mean  the  pretension  of 
keeping  a  gig  or  a  footman — display  for  the  world, 
and  meanness  for  the  household. 

One  of  the  most  vivid  of  my  recollections  of  this 
period,  and  indeed  of  some  years  after,  is  that  of 
the  extremely  easy  mode  in  which  the  majority  of 
the  trading  classes  struggled  with  the  cares  of  obtain- 


A   PRELUDE.  49 

ing  a  livelihood.  It  is  not  within  my  remembrance 
that  anybody  worked  hard.  The  absence  of  extreme 
competition  appeared  to  give  the  old  settlers  in  the 
borough  a  sort  of  vested  interest  in  their  occupations ; 
and  if  sometimes  a  stranger  came  amongst  them, 
with  lower  prices  and  lower  bows,  he  would  be 
regarded  as  an  intruder  on  the  fertile  close,  who 
would  soon  come  to  the  end  of  his  tether.  It  was 
the  same  with  the  attorneys  and  the  apothecaries. 
Those  who  had  to  preserve  a  genteel  appearance 
spent  an  hour  each  day  under  the  hands  of  the 
hair-dresser.  Every  morning  the  hair  was  powdered, 
the  queue  was  unrolled  and  rolled  up  again,  the 
gossip  was  talked,  the  evening  paper  was  glanced 
at,  and  by  eleven  the  good  man  was  behind  his 
counter.  There  were  a  few  of  the  oldest  school  who 
closed  their  hatch  when  they  went  to  their  noonday 
dinner,  and  no  importunity  would  induce  them  to 
open  it.  When  the  baker  had  drawn  his  afternoon 
batch,  he  took  off  his  red  cap  and  washed  his  bald 
head,  put  on  his  flaxen  wig,  and  sallied  forth  to  spend 
his  long  evening  in  his  accustomed  chair  at  the  ale 
house,  which  had  become  his  second  home.  Some  had 
a  notion  that  they  secured  custom  to  the  shop  by  a 
constant  round  among  the  numerous  hostelries.  I 
knew  a  most  worthy  man,  occupying  a  large  house 
which  his  forefathers  had  occupied  from  the  time  of 
Queen  Anne,  who,  when  he  gave  up  the  business  to  his 
son,  who,  recently  married,  preferred  his  own  fireside, 
told  the  innovator  that  he  would  infallibly  be  ruined 
if  he  did  not  go  out  to  make  friends  over  his  evening 
glass.  The  secret  of  these  worthy  people  keeping  their 
heads  above  water,  in  this  laissez  faire  sort  of  exist 
ence,  was,  that  their  ordinary  habits  were  frugal,  that 

3 


50  EARLY  REMINISCENCES: 

they  rarely  drank  wine;  never  occupied  the  best  room 
except  on  Sunday,  and  on  that  day  alone  had  the 
"added  pudding"  of  time  immemorial.  The  frugal 
habits  of  all  of  the  middle  classes,  and  the  want  of 
education  of  many,  did  not  abate  anything  of  their 
importance  when  they  were  chosen  to  fill  public 
offices.  Under  the  guidance  of  the  Town  Clerk,  cor 
porate  magistrates  generally  got  through  their  busi 
ness  decently.  Sometimes  they  made  little  slips. 
Late  in  the  evening  an  offender  was  brought  before 
one  of  our  mayors,  having  been  detected  in  stealing 
a  smock-frock  from  a  pawnbroker's  door.  "  Look  in 
'  Burn's  Justice,' "  said  his  worship  to  his  son ;  "  look 
in  the  index  for  smock-frock."  "  Can't  find  it,  father. 
Not  there."  "  What !  no  law  against  stealing  smock- 
frocks  ?  D my  heart,  young  fellow,  but  you've 

had  a  lucky  escape."  (Even  justices  in  those  times 
might  incur  the  penalties  against  profane  oaths.)  The 
constable  demurred  at  the  discharge  of  the  prisoner. 
"  Well,  well !  Lock  him  up,  and  we'll  see  the  Town 
Clerk  in  the  morning." 

Peter  Pindar  wrote  an  ode  on  "  Frogmore  Fe"te," 
in  which  he  describes  the  "  Pair  of  England  "  with 
"  The  family  of  Orange  by  their  side."  This  would 
take  us  to  1796  or  1797.  It  was  about  the  begin 
ning  of  the  century  that  I  was  present  at  one  of 
these  fetes,  at  which,  as  on  previous  occasions,  how 
ever  sneered  at,  there  was  a  real  desire  to .  promote 
the  pleasures  of  their  neighbours  and  dependents  on 
the  part  of  the  Royal  Family.  Amongst  other 
delights  of  that  occasion,  there  was  a  play,  or  rather 
scenes  of  a  play,  acted  before  the  mansion,  in  the  co 
lonnade  of  which  the  Court  stood,  whilst  the  common 
spectators  were  grouped  on  the  lawn  below.  The 


A    PRELUDE.  51 

scenes  were  from  the  "  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor." 
The  critical  faculty  had  not  then  been  developed  to 
stand  in  the  way  of  my  perfect  enjoyment.  I  be 
lieved  then  in  the  real  existence  of  Slender  and 
Anne  Page;  of  the  French  doctor  and  the  Welsh 
parson  ;  of  mine  host  of  the  Garter,  who  was  un 
doubtedly  the  host  of  the  White  Hart.  I  then  knew 
an  old  house  at  the  corner  of  Sheet  Street  (alas  !  it  is 
pulled  down)  where  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ford  once  dwelt, 
and  whence  Falstaff  was  carried  in  the  buck-basket 
to  Datchet  Mead.  I  could  then  tell  the  precise  spot 
where  the  epicurean  knight  went  hissing  hot  into  the 
Thames.  Herne's  Oak  was  then  to  me  an  undeniable 
memorial  of  centuries  past.  Forty  years  afterwards, 
I  went  over  the  footsteps  of  my  childhood  with  Mr. 
Creswick,  and  we  tried  to  verify  the  sites  of  these 
immortal  scenes.  The  pencil  of  my  eminent  friend 
has  shadowed  forth  some  aids  to  the  imagination  of 
the  readers  of  the  "  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,"  in  my 
"  pictorial"  edition.  But  to  my  mind  there  were  no 
realities  such  as  I  had  pictured  when,  after  the 
Fete  at  Frogmore,  I  wandered  about,  book  in  hand, 
to  the  fields  where  Sir  Hugh  Evans  sang  "To  shallow 
rivers,"  and  looked  for  the  "  oak  with  great  ragg'd 
horns,"  near  the  pit  where  the  fairies  danced.  Dili 
gent  antiquarianism  has  pointed  out  a  mistake  or  two 
in  my  conjectural  sites.  It  is  of  little  moment.  It 
was  with  a  pang  that  I  gave  up  iny  boyish  convic 
tion  that  I  had  gathered  acorns  beneath  "Herne's 
Oak,"  and  yielded  to  the  evidence  that  it  had  been 
cut  down.  The  "undoubting  mind"  is  a  youthful 
possession  beyond  all  price  ;  and  though  the  Winter 
of  scepticism  may  have  come,  it  is  still  pleasant  to 
look  back  upon  the  Spring  of  belief. 


52  EARLY    REMINISCENCES  I 

There  are  some  things  that  are  prominent  among 
the  recollections  of  my  nonage,  in  which  the  faith  of 
my  inexperience  and  the  doubts  of  my  small  know 
ledge,  were  curiously  blended.  I  was  a  frequent  visitor 
to  the  State  Apartments  and  the  Bound  Tower.  I 
sometimes  accompanied  friends  who  came  to  see 
Windsor ;  sometimes  was  permitted  by  the  kind  and 
intelligent  keeper  of  the  pictures  in  the  Castle  to 
linger  about  and  look  my  fill.  The  State  Rooms  now 
are  very  different  from  the  State  Booms  as  I  remem 
ber  them.  There  had  been  little  change,  I  appre 
hend,  in  the  architectural  character  of  the  rooms 
since  the  period  of  Anne  and  George  I,  when  Sir 
James  Thornhill  painted  new  allegories  to  supple 
ment  the  old  flatteries  of  Charles  II.  by  Verrio. 
We  entered  by  a  staircase  under  a  dome  gaudily 
decorated  with  the  story  of  Phaeton  and  with 
lady-like  representatives  of  the  four  elements,  Fire, 
Air,  Earth,  and  Water.  The  pictures  in  the  apart 
ments  had  received  a  large  addition  to  their  num 
ber  after  George  III.  came  to  reside  at  Windsor. 
Amongst  these  additions  were  the  Cartoons.  At  the 
period  of  which  I  speak,  and  during  several  succeed 
ing  years,  an  artist  was  employed  in  making  the  most 
elaborate  pencil-drawings  of  these  bold  designs  for 
tapestry,  which,  perpetuated  in  the  most  exquisitely 
finished  engravings,  gave  a  very  adequate  notion  of 
the  skill  of  Mr.  Holloway,  but  very  little  of  the 
grandeur  of  RafYaelle.  That  grandeur  I  could  even 
then  comprehend  in  the  Ananias,  and  Paul  Preaching 
at  Athens ;  I  could  feel  the  exquisite  tenderness  of 
the  charge  to  Peter;  but  I  could  not  quite  under 
stand  t'he  large  men  in  the  little  boat  in  the  Mira 
culous  Draught  of  Fishes.  The  most  interesting 


A    PRELUDE.  52 

room,  at  the  beginning  of  the  century,  was  that 
known  as  Queen  Elizabeth's,  or  the  Picture  Gallery. 
In  a  few  years  it  was  dismantled  of  its  somewhat 
choice  collection,  and  became  a  lumber-room,  into 
which  no  one  looked.  There  I -once  gazed  upon  the 
Misers  of  Quintin  Matsys — well-fed  misers,  gloating 
over  their  money-heaps,  with  a  joyous  expression 
quite  incompatible  with  the  ordinary  notion  of  the 
self-denying  misery  of  avarice.  At  the  end  of  this 
long  and  narrow  room,  looking  out  on  the  North 
Terrace,  hung  a  wonderful  Boy  and  Puppies,  by 
Murillo.  In  this  gallery  were  the  three  grand  ancient 
paintings  of  the  Battle  of  Spurs,  the  Embarkation  of 
Henry  the  Eighth,  and  the  Field  of  the  Cloth  of  Gold. 
They  first  went  away  to  the  Society  of  Antiquaries, 
who  were  forced  to  acknowledge  that  they  were 
only  a  loan ;  and  they  are  now  among  the  heir-looms 
of  the  people  at  Hampton  Court.  I  hope  that  I  had 
not  faith  enough  in  the  ideal  of  Lely  arid  Wissing  to 
believe  that  the  profuse  display  of  their  charms  by 
most  of  King  Charles's  "  beauties  "  was  an  adequate 
representation  of  female  loveliness.  In  the  same 
spirit  of  incredulity  I  was  not  quite  content  to  believe 
that  the  Roman  Triumph  which  Verrio  had  painted 
in  St.  George's  Hall — in  which  Edward  the  Black 
Prince  and  his  royal  prisoner  of  France  were  the 
principal  personages — was  a  faithful  representation 
of  the  costume  and  manners  of  the  fourteenth  cen 
tury.  The  Hound  Tower,  whose  rooms,  now  private, 
were  then  open  to  the  public  gaze  at  the  price  of  a 
shilling,  was  a  miserably -furnished,  dreary  place, 
which  had  little  charm  for  me,  except  in  the  noble 
view  from  its  leads.  One  of  these  dingy  rooms  was 
hung  with  faded  tapestry,  delineating  the  piteous 


54  EARLY   REMINISCENCES  : 

«tory  of  Hero  and  Leander.  Long  ago  I  related  the 
discourse  of  the  fair  guide,  who  aroused  my  critical 
scepticism  in  my  boyhood,  and  who  was  a  perpetual 
source  of  enjoyment  to  me  when  I  could  beguile 
some  unsuspecting  stranger  into  a  patient  attention 
to  her  learned  volubility.  "  Here,  ladies  and  gentle 
men,  is  the  whole  lamentable  history  of  Hero  and 
Leander.  Hero  was  a  nun.  She  lived  in  that  old 
ancient  nunnery  which  you  see,"  &c.,  &c.  We  have 
gained  many  great  and  good  things  through  the 
Education  of  the  People  ;  but  what  have  we  not  lost, 
in  losing  the  humorous  contrasts  of  society  which 
were  presented  in  the  days  of  the  Horn-Book. 

AT  the  age  of  twelve  a  new  life  opened  upon  me. 
I  was  sent  to  a  somewhat  famous  classical  school — 
that  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Nicholas,  at  Baling.  Here,  for 
the  first  time,  I  was  stimulated  into  the  ambition  to 
excel.  I  had  read  a  good  deal  for  my  own  pleasure  ; 
but  I  had  read  little  for  solid  improvement.  My 
command  of  books  had  given  me  advantages  over 
other  boys  ;  for,  although  it  might  have  been  deemed 
a  waste  of  time  that  I  had  been  devouring  plays  and 
novels  without  stint,  I  had  thus  acquired  some  com 
mand  of  my  own  language,  and  could  write  it  with 
ease  and  correctness.  But  I  soon  found  that  my 
desultory  knowledge  would  stand  me  in  little  stead 
when  I  had  to  construe  Caesar  or  Horace.  There  was 
a  kind  friend  at  hand  in  one  of  the  masters — Joseph 
Heath,  a  Fellow  of  St.  John's,  Oxford — whose  memory 
I  shall  ever  cherish.  He  helped  me  over  the  first  dif 
ficulties  of  my  advance  in  the  routine  of  my  class.  I 
soon  did  my  exercises  quickly,  and  did  them  well ; 
but  the  system  of  the  school  was  not  favourable  to 


A   PRELUDE.  55 

steady  and  continuous  exertion  in  climbing  heights 
by  other  than  beaten  tracks.  My  memory  enabled 
me  readily  to  accomplish  tasks  which  to  others 
were  severe  labours.  But  I  was  very  young  and 
very  small,  so  that  I  was  kept  too  long  amidst  slow 
class-fellows.  Whilst  I  should  have  been  learning 
Greek,  I  was  construing  easy  Latin  authors,  writing 
a  weekly  theme,  and  making  verses  which  required 
little  talent  besides  the  careful  use  of  the  "  Gradus 
ad  Parnassum."  Nevertheless  my  school-life  was 
a  real  happiness.  My  nature  bourgeoned  under 
kindness,  and  I  received  unusual  favours  from  the 
friend  I  have  mentioned.  He  treated  me  in  some 
degree  as  his  companion.  At  his  house  on  a  Satur 
day  afternoon  I  have  been  admitted  to  the  privilege 
of  taking  a  glass  of  wine  with  scholars  from  London, 
who  came  to  renew  the  associations  of  their  Oxford 
undergraduate  days.  One  of  these  was  Mr.  Ellis,  of 
the  British  Museum — the  Sir  Henry  Ellis  of  the  pre 
sent  time — whose  genial  courtesy  still  reminds  me  of 
the  sixty  years  ago  when,  as  a  boy,  I  first  made  an 
acquaintance  which  I  have  never  ceased  to  appreciate 
as  a  man.  I  was  happy  at  Ealing  school,  and  if  I  had 
been  permitted  to  stay  there  long  enough,  I  might  have 
fought  my  way  to  some  sound  scholarship.  After  little 
more  than  two  years  I  was  uprooted  from  this  con 
genial  soil,  to  be  planted  once  more  in  the  arid  sands 
of  Windsor,  my  father's  apprentice ;  to  become  my 
own  instructor  ;  and,  like  too  many  self-teachers,  to 
dream  away  the  precious  years  of  youth  in  desultory 
reading — purposeless,  almost  hopeless. 


56  EARLY  REMINISCENCES: 


SECTION  IL 

AT  the  midsummer  of  1805, 1  was  taken  altogether 
from  my  school.  It  did  not  appear  to  me  that  I  was 
changing  restraint  for  freedom.  I  left  with  bitter 
feelings,  for  I  had  imbibed  such  a  tincture  of  learning 
as  made  me  desirous  to  be  a  scholar.  My  father's 
determination  to  put  me  to  business,  at  the  early  age 
of  fourteen,  did  not  pass  without  some  ^emonstrance 
from  my  schoolmaster.  His  answer  was  that  I  had 
acquired  enough  knowledge  to  fit  me  for  ray  station 
in  life ;  and  if  I  became  a  bookseller  ±  was  not 
likely  to  be  treated  as  Johnson  treated  Osborne, 
when  he  knocked  him  down  with  a  folio,  spying, 
"Lie  there,  thou  lump  of  lead."  My  destiny  was 
sealed  when  I  signed  my  indenture  of  apprentice 
ship.  My  life,  however,  was  not  altogether  without 
opportunities  of  mental  improvement.  My  first  oc 
cupation  interested  me  greatly.  M.  Porny,  of  whom 
I  have  spoken,  died  in  1804,  leaving  my  fathei 
one  of  his  executors.  The  co-executor  declined  to 
act.  With  the  exception  of  a  few  legacies,  all  M. 
Porny's  property,  of  which  the  residue  exceeded 
4000Z.,  was  bequeathed  to  a  small  charity  school  at 
Eton.  Upon  his  decease,  letters  which  he  had  pre 
pared  were  forwarded  to  his  surviving  relatives  at 
Caen,  and  they  manifested  an  intention  to  dispute 
his  chief  bequest,  under  the  Statute  of  Mortmain. 
A  friendly  suit  in  Chancery  was  accordingly  com 
menced  ;  and  it  being  necessary  that  a  somewhat 
voluminous  French  correspondence  should  be  laid 


A    TEELUDE.  57 

before  the  Master  in  Chancery  to  whom  the  matter 
was  referred,  my  first  literary  task  was  to  translate 
the  letters  which  had  been  sent  and  received  during 
the  half  century  in  which  M.  Porny  had'  found  a 
refuge  in  England  from  the  alleged  unkindness  of 
his  family.  The  probability  is  that  the  Master  never 
read  either  the  originals  or  my  translation  ;  but 
these  letters  were  read  by  me  with  intense  interest. 
In  them  there  was  a  mystery  gradually  unfolded,  as 
in  some  enchaining  narrative  of  fiction.  The  real 
name  of  the  French  teacher  at  Eton  College — the 
author  of  many  elementary  books,  and  of  a  well- 
known  volume  on  Heraldry,  that  bear  the  name 
of  A.  Porny — was  Antoine  Pyron  du  Martre.  Here 
were  depicted  the  undying  memories  of  early  wrongs  ; 
the  strong  "will  which  had  scorned  all  fellowship 
of  his  kinsmen  when  the  solitary  native  of  Nor 
mandy  was  struggling  for  bread  in  a  foreign  land ; 
the  triumphs  of  his  pride  in  rejecting  the  proffered 
kindness  which  came  too  late ;  the  determination 
that  he  would  leave  his  hard-earned  riches  for  the 
benefit  of  the  land  in  which  he  had  gathered  them. 
From  fourteen  to  seventeen  I  was  learning  the  print 
er's  trade,  more,  as  it  were,  for  recreation  than  for  use ; 
set  no  task- work,  but  occasionally  working  with  irre 
gular  industry  at  some  self-appointed  tasks.  The 
indulgence  of  my  father  was  meant,  I  may  believe, 
to  compensate  me  for  his  opposition  to  my  desire  for 
a  higher  occupation  than  that  which  he  pursued. 
Thus  I  was  often  galloping  my  pony  along  the  glades 
of  the  forest ;  or  watching  my  float,  hour  after  hour, 
from  the  Thames  bank  at  Datchet  or  at  Clewer; 
or  wandering,  book  in  hand,  by  the  river-side  in  the 
early  morning ;  or  plunging  into  "  the  shade  of 


58  EARLY   REMINISCENCES  : 

melancholy  boughs"  on  some  "sunshine  holiday." 
I  read  the  old  novels  and  the  old  poems  again  and 
again.  Miss  Porter  and  Mrs.  Opie  gave  me  fresh 
excitement  when  I  was  tired  of  Mrs.  Radcliffe. 
"The  Pleasures  of  Hope"  and  Beattie's  "Minstrel" 
had  long  been  my  familiar  favourites.  At  this  time 
there  were  published  charming  little  volumes  of 
verse  and  prose,  as  "  Walker's  Classics,"  one  of  which 
was  generally  in  my  pocket.  But  in  1805  a  new 
world  of  romance  was  opened  to  me  by  "  The  Lay  of 
the  Last  Minstrel."  The  old  didactic  form  of  poetry 
now  seemed  tedious  compared  with  the  adventures 
of  William  of  Deloraine,  and  the  tricks  of  the  Goblin 
Page.  Meanwhile  my  small  Latin  and  less  Greek 
were  vanishing  away.  The  newspaper,  too,  occupied 
much  of  my  reading  time.  It  was  a  period  of  tre 
mendous  interest,  even  to  the  apprehension  of  a 
boy.  What  an  autumn  and  what  a  winter  were 
those  of  1805,  in  which  I  was  enabled,  day  by 
day,  to  read  the  narratives  of  such  deeds  as  stirred 
the  heart  of  England  in  the  days  of  the  great 
Armada !  Napoleon  had  broken  up  the  camp  at 
Boulogne,  and  was  marching  to  the  Ehine.  Nelson 
had  gone  on  board  the  "  Victory "  at  Portsmouth, 
and  had  joined  the  fleet  before  Cadiz.  On  the  3rd 
of  November  came  the  news  of  the  surrender  of  the 
Austrian  army  to  the  French  Emperor  at  Ulm. 
On  the  7th  we  were  huzzaing  for  the  final  naval 
glory  of  Trafalgar,  and  weeping  for  the  death  of 
Nelson.  Pitt  rejoiced  and  wept  when  he  was 
called  up  in  the  night  to  receive  this  news,  as  the 
humblest  in  the  land  rejoiced  and  wept.  Before  I 
saw  the  funeral  of  Nelson,  on  the  9th  of  January, 
Pitt  had  received  that  fatal  mail  which  told  of  the 


A   PRELUDE.  59 

destruction  at  Austerlitz  of  all  his  hopes  of  a 
triumphant  coalition  against  France.  It  broke  his 
heart.  He  died  on  the  23rd  of  January.  Tame,  by 
comparison,  as  were  the  great  public  events  which 
followed  these  mighty  struggles,  they  were  perhaps 
more  exciting  in  the  conflicting  opinions  which  they 
provoked.  England  was  still  heart-whole.  She  was 
not  dismayed,  even  when  Napoleon  had  the  Prussian 
monarchy  at  his  feet,  and  Alexander  of  Russia  had 
exchanged  vows  of  friendship  with  him  on  the  raft 
atJTilsit.  Though  she  became  isolated  in  her  great 
battle  for  existence,  her  resolution  was  not  exhausted. 
But  she  was  humiliated  by  the  events  of  the  Dar 
danelles  and  of  Buenos  Ayres.  She  blushed  when 
Copenhagen  was  bombarded,  and  she  fancied  that 
the  abstraction  of  the  Danish  fleet  was  a  wanton 
robbery.  In  this  case,  as  in  many  others,  journalism 
was  not  history.  The  secret  articles  of  the  Treaty  of 
Tilsit  had  not  then  come  to  light  for  the  vindication 
of  the  Government. 

The  people  at  this  time,  even  at  Windsor,  grew 
gloomy  and  discontented.  Public  affairs  were  un- 
prosperous ;  parties  ran  high  ;  the  taxes  increased 
with  the  expenses  of  the  war  and  the  yearly  additions 
to  the  interest  of  the  debt.  It  was  not  only  the 
actual  amount  of  taxation  of  which  the  middle  classes 
complained,  but  of  the  oppressive  and  insulting  mode 
of  their  assessment.  The  excisable  trader  had  too  long 
been  familiarised  with  the  presence  of  the  revenue 
officer  to  complain.  He  walked  into  the  tallow- 
chandler's  workshop  without  ceremony,  put  a  seal 
upon  his  copper  and  his  dipping  vat,  and  locked  up  his 
moulds.  He  looked  over  the  grocer's  wares  of  tobacco, 
pepper,  and  tea,  at  his  good  pleasure  ;  and  this  pro- 


60  EARLY   REMINISCENCES  : 

cess,  which  he  called  taking  stock,  was  insulting  and 
troublesome  to  the  honest,  and  no  real  check  upon 
the  fraudulent.  The  liquor-merchant  did  not  dare 
to  send  out  a  dozen  of  wine  or  a  gallon  of  spirits 
without  a  permit.  The  Income-Tax  was  truly  inqui 
sitorial,  for  the  local  Commissioners  had  no  hesitation 
in  ordering  a  tradesman  to  produce  his  ledger  and 
cash-book.  If  there  was  an  error  in  the  return  of  As 
sessed  Taxes  the  resident  officer  of  revenue,  called  an 
Inspector,  immediately  made  a  surcharge,  which  it  was 
extremely  difficult  to  get  off  by  appeal.  I  was  once 
horror-struck  by  witnessing  a  scene  between  an  apo 
plectic  innkeeper  and  the  tax-collector,  who  had  no 
alternative  but  to  insist  upon  the  payment  of  a  con 
firmed  surcharge.  The  unhappy  man,  doubly  red 
with  passion,  slid  out  of  his  arm-chair  in  the  bar, 
and,  falling  upon  his  knees,  exclaimed,  "May  the 
curse  of  God  light  upon  you  all.  Now  I'll  pay  it."  • 
And  yet,  amidst  much  grumbling  and  disaffection, 
the  majority  of  my  townsmen  went  on  in  the  light- 
hearted  course  which  was  habitual  to  them.  There 
were  few  fluctuations  of  fortune  amongst  us,  as  in  a 
manufacturing  district ;  no  sudden  prostrations  of 
the  capitalist ;  no  exceptional  miseries  of  the  labourer. 
There  was  amusement  and  excitement  for  us  in  the 
invariable  round  of  the  weeks  and  months.  The 
4th  of  June  was  a  great  day  of  bell-ringing,  and 
reviews,  and  the  regatta  of  the  Eton  boys,  which 
closed  with  fireworks.  There  were  Ascot  Races,  to 
which  the  Royal  Family  came  in  state  up  the  course, 
their  carriages  preceded  by  the  master  of  the  buck- 
hounds,  with  his  huntsman  and  his  yeomen  prickers. 
Ascot  was  too  distant  from  London  for  a  multi 
farious  assemblage  from  Tottenham  Court  Road 


A.    PRELUDE.  61 

and  St.  Mary  Axe  to  be  there.  The  neighbouring 
gentry  came  in  their  carriages,  and  the  farmers 
came  in  their  taxed  carts.  A  few  Bow  Street  offi 
cers  stood  around  the  royal  booth,  but  they  were 
not  installed  in  the  preventive  duties  of  sup 
pressing  E.  O.  tables,  and  of  overturning  the  stools 
of  the  numberless  professors  of  "  the  thimble-rig " 
and  "prick  in  the  garter."  If  a  pickpocket  were 
detected,  he  had  Lynch  law.  He  was  conducted 
to  a  pond  at  the  rear  of  the  booths,  and  there,  with 
a  long  rope  fastened  round  his  waist,  was  dragged 
through  the  water  till  he  was  half  dead.  There 
was  the  weekly  meet  of  the  hounds,  who  duly 
went  forth  to  some  neighbouring  comnion  from  the 
kennel  at  Swinley,  with  the  deer  in  the  cart.  It 
was  not  necessary  to  give  the  poor  animal  much 
law,  for  the  stag-hound  of  that  day  was  slow,  and 
there  were  more  hacks  than  hunters  in  the  field. 
The  King  walked  as  usual  on  the  Terrace,  but 
loyalty  was  not  so  demonstrative  as  in  the  earlier 
days.  The  Marquis  of  Thomond  knocked  off  a 
man's  hat  when  it  was  not  lifted  as  the  King  passed, 
and  the  suspected  democrat  knocked  down  the  Mar 
quis  of  Thomond. 

Left  much  to  my  own  thoughts/  young  as  I  was,  I 
gradually  grew  into  a  chronic  state  of  suspicion  as 
to  the  general  excellence  of  our  political  and  social 
system.  I  saw  a  vast  deal  of  wretchedness  around  me, 
and  I  saw  no  attempt  to  relieve  it  except  by  doles  of 
bread  at  the  church  door  on  Sundays,  with  an  indis 
criminate  alms-giving  to  vagrants  every  night  by  the 
overseer,  and  a  driving  of  them  out  of  the  borough  by 
the  beadle  the  next  day.  There  was  no  education, 
except  at  the  Free  School  for  some  thirty  boys  and 


62  EARLY   REMINISCENCES  : 

twenty  girls.  The  national  school  of  Eton,  which  the 
good  old  Frenchman  founded,  preceded  our  Windsor 
national  school  by  fifteen  years.  Out  relief  to  the 
poor  was  voted  every  week  by  a  committee  with  a 
lavish  hand.  The  assistant  overseer  insulted  the 
weak,  and  was  bullied  by  the  strong.  The  parish 
gravel-pit  was  the  specific  for  want  of  employment, 
continuous  or  temporary.  The  poor's  rate  was  enor 
mous,  for  there  was  destitution  everywhere  through 
sickness  and  death,  produced  by  the  contempt  of 
sanitary  laws.  There  was  no  dispensary,  and  the 
parish  doctor  was  hard  worked  and  ill  paid.  It  is 
difficult,  in  these  happier  times  of  fiscal  enlighten 
ment,  to  estimate  what  the  poor  had  to  endure  in  the 
incidence  of  taxation.  The  great  burden  which  they 
had  to  bear  was  in  the  dearness  of  food.  Without 
mentioning  the  effect  upon  their  means  of  living  by 
the  laws  for  the  protection  of  agriculture — which  told 
upon  the  market-price  not  only  of  bread,  but  of  meat, 
bacon,  butter,  cheese — there  was  excessive  direct 
taxation  for  the  purposes  of  revenue  upon  sugar, 
upon  tea,  upon  coffee,  upon  soap,  upon  candles,  upon 
salt.  They  lived  in  miserable  hovels,  for  there  were 
duties  of  enormous  pressure  upon  bricks,  upon  foreign 
timber,  upon  glass.  The  cost  of  a  cotton  gown  was 
enhanced  by  the  duties  upon  raw  cotton  and  upon 
printed  calicos.  Worst  of  all,  the  effect  of  this  vast 
mass  of  injudicious  taxes  was  to  arrest  the  profitable 
employment  of  capital,  and  thus  to  reduce  the  labourer 
to  the  lowest  condition.  The  oppression  and  the 
neglect  which  I  witnessed  all  around  me, — evils 
of  which  I  did  not  see  the  causes  or  anticipate 
'the  remedies, — drove  me  into  those  socialistic  beliefs 
which  it  is  a  mistake  to  think  did  not  exist  in 


A   PRELUDE.  63 

young  and  incautious  minds  long  before  the  present 
day.  I  was  a  sort  of  Communist  in  1808.  In  a 
satirical  poem  (whose  MS.  has  turned  up  with  other 
rubbish  of  verse  and  prose  stored  in  an  old  box)  I 
poured  out  my  indignation  against  the  indifference 
and  pride,  lay  and  clerical,  which  I  saw  around  me. 
I  find  there  these  lines,  which  I  give,  believe  me, 
not  as  evidence  of  poetical  talent  but  of  a  jaundiced 
imagination.  Many  have  written  much  of  the  same 
stuff  at  a  riper  age  than  mine,  who  have  in  time 
learnt  the  worth  of  more  practical  philanthropy. 
But  surely  that  youth  is  to  be  pitied  who  begins  by 
setting  up  for  a  political  economist. 

"  Hail  happy  days,  primeval  ages  hail, 
Which  deck  the  warm  enthusiast's  glowing  tale, 
When  simple  Nature,  pure  and  unconfined, 
With  equal  gifts  ennobled  all  mankind  ; 
When  hardy  energy  and  rugged  toil 
Alone  could  snatch  the  blessings  of  the  soil, 
And  wearied  diligence  return'd  to  seize 
The  cup  of  pleasure  in  the  lap  of  ease  ! 
Now  when  the  hand  of  unsubstantial  worth 
Grasps  every  treasure  of  the  teeming  earth, 
And  Nature  vainly  spreads  her  equal  store 
Whilst  millions,  heirs  of  plenty,  still  are  poor, 
Say,  shall  the  glittering  pomp  of  pride  despise 
The  humble  toil  that  taught  the  proud  to  rise  ? 
Say,  shall  the  wretched,  all-laborious  hind 
In  vain  demand  the  bread  he  gives  mankind  ?" 

I  fear  that  in  this  unwatched  time  of  morbid 
thoughts  my  religious  principles  were  in  as  great 
danger  of  running  wild  as  my  political.  I  had  read 
some  of  the  old  divines — Hall,  and  Barrow,  and 
Jeremy  Taylor — with  real  benefit.  I  fear  that  I 
acquired  a  sceptical  humour  from  such  defences  of 
the  faith  as  Watson's  "  Apology  for  the  Bible,"  and 

-  01  TH*      > 


64  EARLY   REMINISCENCES  : 

Lyttelton's  "Conversion  of  St.  Paul."  They  attempted 
to  prove  too  much  to  satisfy  my  reason,  which  they 
addressed  exclusively.  They  did  not  marshal  their 
proofs  with  the  consummate  skill  displayed  by  Sher 
lock  in  his  "  Trial  of  the  Witnesses  ; "  nor  did  they 
charm  away  the  mists  of  doubt  by  the  tolerant  and 
fearless  candour  of  Berkeley  in  his  "  Alciphron." 
Beattie's  "Essay  on  Truth"  did  not  sink  deep  into 
my  heart,  although  the  King  and  Queen  had  lauded 
it  as  the  greatest  of  all  theological  triumphs,  as  if 
there  had  been  no  such  book  as  Butler's  "Analogy." 
The  service  at  our  church  was  too  cold  and  formal — 
often  too  slovenly — to  satisfy  me.  There  was  no  con 
gregational  singing.  Chaunts  and  musical  responses 
were  unknown.  I  got  away  from  it,  whenever  I  could, 
to  find  a  seat  in  St.  George's  Chapel,  where  the  cathe 
dral  service  was  exquisitely  performed.  On  Sunday 
the  choir  was  full ;  but  I  could  stand  by  the  iron 
gates  of  the  south  aisle,  and  hear  every  note  of  the 
rich  harmonies  of  Boyce  and  Handel  breathed  from 
the  lips  of  Sale  or  Vaughan.  On  a  frosty  winter 
evening  of  the  week-day  it  mattered  little  to  me 
that  the  choir  was  empty  and  cold.  I  yielded  up 
my  whole  heart  to  the  soothing  influences.  I  was 
sometimes  glad  to  be  admitted  into  a  stall  by  a  good- 
natured  verger ;  for  at  times  my  attention  was  sadly 
distracted  by  the  tricks  and  grimaces  of  the  young 
choristers,  who,  as  they  knelt  in  apparent  prayer,  _ 
were  occupied  in  modelling  hideous  figures  out  of 
the  ends  of  their  wax  candles.  Such  were  the  secrets 
disclosed  to  me  as  I  commonly  sat  on  the  free  bench 
by  the  side  of  the  sportive  lads.  These  practices 
were  gradually  extinguished  by  a  better  discipline ; 
but  there  was  one  practice  which  no  discipline  could 


A   PRELUDE.  65 

control,  for  it  was  an  institution  as  old  as  the  days 
of  James  I.  Decker,  in  his  "Gull's  Horn-book," 
thus  ironically  advises  the  lounger  in  Paul's  :  "  Be 
sure  your  silver  spurs  clog  your  heels,  and  then  the 
boys  will  swarm  about  you  like  so  many  white 
butterflies  ;  when  you,  in  the  open  quire,  shall  draw 
forth  a  perfumed  embroidered  purse,  and  quoit  silver 
into  the  boys'  hands."  Thus  have  I  seen  a  stranger 
civilian  stalk  into  the  choir  of  St.  George's  Chapel. 
The  spur  was  instantly  detected ;  and  when  the 
bewildered  man  was  surrounded  by  a  bevy  of  white 
surplices  as  he  loitered  in  the  nave,  there  was  no 
help  for  him  but  to  pay  the  spur-money. 

Such  interruptions  to  the  beauty  and  solemnity 
of  the  service  were  not  sufficient  to  prevent  their 
abiding  impressions ;  and  thus  the  salt  of  devotion 
was  not  wholly  washed  out  of  me.  I  was,  how 
ever,  well  nigh  rushing  into  the  desert,  in  going 
through  the  ceremony  which  was  to  keep  me  in 
the  fold.  I  had  diligently  prepared  myself  for 
Confirmation.  Dr.  Fisher,  Bishop  of  Salisbury,  was 
to  perform  the  rite.  There  was  an  absence  of  all 
solemnity,  and  even  of  decency,  upon  which  I  look 
back  with  disgust.  I  still  see  the  bishop's  officers 
driving  the  young  people  to  the  altar -rails  as  if 
they  were  sheep  going  to  the  fair ;  the  monotonous 
formality  of  the  imposition  of  hands  upon  the 
huddled  batches  who  knelt  for  a  few  minutes,  and 
then  were  chased  back  to  their  seats  by  the  impatient 
ministers  of  the  solemnity.  Its  failure  altogether  to 
satisfy  my  excited  feelings  compelled  me  into  a 
passion  of  tears,  and  I  went  home  and  told  my 
father  that  I  would  be  a  Quaker  or  a  Unitarian. 
I  think  that  Confirmation  confirmed  whatever  was 


G6  EAELY   REMINISCENCES  ; 

sceptical  in  my  composition ;  and  I  had  to  escape 
into  the  region  of  natural  piety,  and  long  dwell  there, 
before  I  could  become  reconciled  to  the  establish 
ment  which  could  endure  such  profanations. 

Up  to  my  sixteenth  or  seventeenth  year  T  had 
found  little  in  my  professional  pursuits  to  interest 
me.  But  I  then  became  what  Mr.  Hill  Burton  terms 
a  "  Bookhunter."  My  father  was  always  a  great 
buyer  of  second-hand  books.  He  attended  sales. 
He  purchased  private  libraries.  He  bought  many 
more  books  than  he  sold.  Many  of  his  rare  volumes 
had  been  heaped  up  in  cupboards  till  I  routed 
them  out,  and  made  a  complete  catalogue  of  some 
thousands.  This  occupation  was  of  lasting  advan 
tage  to  me,  in  widening  my  horizon  of  knowledge. 
I  was  led  to  study  and  abstract,  not  only  Dibdin 
and  De  Bure,  but  the  catalogues  of  great  London 
booksellers,  such  as  those  of  White  and  Egerton  and 
Cuthell  (the  predecessors  of  the  later  and  greater 
authorities).  These  enlightened  my  provincial  esti 
mate  of  value  by  "  scarce,"  "  rare,"  "  very  rare." 
To  hunt  in  brokers'  shops  ;  to  attend  sales,  and 
sometimes  bid  for  volumes  that  I  carried  home  in 
triumph  at  a  small  price  ;  to  talk  with  gusto  to  an 
old  apothecary  at  Slough  about  black-letter  treasures ; 
this  was  a  pursuit  that  weaned  me  from  many  of  my 
idle  reveries,  and  was  not  without  its  use  in  later 
life.  The  remembrance  of  that  worthy  book-col 
lector  of  the  then  small  village  of  Slough  fills  me, 
even  now,  with  a  sort  of  pride  at  the  honour  of 
having  been  regarded  by  him  with  a  feeling  that  we 
were  fellow-travellers  upon  the  same  road — he  with 
his  large  experience  and  superb  acquisitions,  I  with 
my  newly-developed  bibliomania  and  small  store  of 


A   PRELUDE.  67 

treasures.  Often  have  I  peeped  into  his  little  shop 
on  the  high  road, — strong  in  many  odours  among 
which  rhubarb  prevailed, — to  see  if  my  master  was 
at  liberty  to  discourse  to  a  pupil  on  his  favourite 
theme.  He  would  suspend  his  labours,  if  he  were 
not  too  busy,  and  hand  over  the  pestle  to  his  atten 
dant  boy.  We  then  went  up  his  narrow  staircase 
into  .his  sanctum.  His  first  words  invariably  were, 
"What  have  you  got  ?"  I  remember  to  have  found 
upon  a  stall  in  Windsor  market  two  black-letter 
pamphlets  of  the  early  English  Reformers.  They 
were  not  much  to  his  taste  when  I  produced  them ; 
nor  did  he  care  for  a  rare  Elzevir  which  I  brought 
out  of  my  pocket.  He  would  then  unlock  the  cas 
ket  where  he  kept  his  jewels,  and  would  delight  my 
eyes  with  something  rich  and  rare  that  he  had 
recently  obtained  in  a  hasty  visit  to  London,  made 
for  the  especial  purpose  of  a  book-hunt.  How  well 
do  I  recollect  the  glow  of  his  honest  face  as  he 
placed  before  me  a  Wynkyn  de  Worde,  torn  and 
dirty,  but  nevertheless  a  fit  companion  for  the  im 
perfect  Caxton  on  his  most  sacred  shelf.  Missals  he 
had,  and  early  English  Bibles.  They  ranged  har 
moniously  side  by  side.  I  soon  grew  to  laugh  at  Dr. 
Peckham's  enthusiasm  ;  but  better  thoughts  would 
suggest  to  me  how  good  it  was  that  an  old  man  who 
had  no  cares  of  children  to  engross  him, — one  who  had 
little  aptitude  for  the  acquirement  of  real  knowledge, 
scientific  or  literary — should  have  a  pursuit  which  was 
intensely  gratifying  to  him,  and  had  a  semblance  of 
learning  to  the  world  as  well  as  to  himself. 

Even  as  Sir  William  Jones  advised  the  young 
Templar  to  read  over  law  catalogues  at  his  break 
fast,  that  he  might  gain  a  general  perception  of 


68  EARLY  REMINISCENCES: 

the  learning  of  which  he  desired  to  become  the 
master,  so  I  gained  something  like  a  broad  view 
)f  the  range  of  literature  by  my  bibliographical 
studies.  In  these  dealings  in  second-hand  books, 
a  circumstance  occurred  which  I  think  had  some 
effect  in  leading  me  to  one  of  the  most  pleasant 
labours  of  my  future  life.  I  had  been  sent  to  a 
house  at  Old  Windsor  to  make  a  list  of  books  belong 
ing  to  a  clergyman  who  had  received  an  appointment 
in  "India.  When  the  price  to  be  given  had  been 
settled  at  home,  I  again  went  to  make  the  offer,  with 
the  money  in  my  hand.  The  generous  man  was 
pleased  with  what  he  considered  liberal  terms,  and 
said  to  me,  "Young  gentleman,  I  give  you  that 
imperfect  copy  of  Shakspere  for  yourself."  It  was 
the  first  folio.  Sadly  defective  it  was  in  many 
places.  I  devised  a  plan  for  making  the  rare  volume 
perfect.  The  fac-simile  edition,  then  recently  pub 
lished,  was  procured.  Amongst  the  oldest  founts  of 
type  in  our  printing-office  was  one  which  exactly 
resembled  that  of  the  folio  of  1623.  We  had  abun 
dant  fly-leaves  of  seventeenth-century  books  which 
matched  the  paper  on  which  this  edition  was  printed. 
I  set  myself  the  task  of  composing  every  page  that 
was  wholly  wanting,  or  was  torn  and  sullied.  When 
the  book  was  handsomely  bound  I  was  in  raptures  at 
my  handiwork.  I  was  to  have  the  copy  for  myself ; 
but  one  of  the  Eton  private-tutors,  to  whom  my 
father  showed  the  volume,  and  explained  how  it  had 
been  completed,  offered  a  tempting  price  for  it,  and 
my  treasure  passed  from  me.  Some  real  value 
remained.  The  process  of  setting  up  the  types  led 
me  to  understand  the  essential  differences  of  the 
early  text,  as  compared  with  modern  editions  with 


A    PRELUDE.  69 

which  I  was  familiar,  especially  those  which  had  been 
maimed  and  deformed  for  the  purposes  of  the  stage. 
What  would  I  riot  now  give,  could  I  obtain  this 
testimonial  that  I  had  not  been  altogether  uselessly 
employed  in  this  morning  of  my  life,  before  a  definite 
purpose  for  the  future  had  given  energy  and  consis 
tency  to  my  pursuits ! 

My  future  walk  in  the  world  was  gradually  shaping 
itself  into  a  distant  view  of  a  practicable  hill-side 
road.  It  became  clear  to  me  that,  as  the  professions 
seemed  to  be  shut  out  from  my  adoption  by  my 
father's  anxious  desire  that  I  should  remain  with  him, 
my  only  way  of  escape  from  the  petty  cares  of  the 
trade  of  a  country  bookseller  and  small  printer  was  to 
make  literature,  in  some  way  or  other,  my  vocation. 
It  was  not  by  writing  commonplace  essays  and  occa 
sional  odes  and  sonnets  (which  I  had  the  sense  to 
burn  as  fast  as  they  were  composed)  that  I  was  to 
carry  out  this  purpose.  If  I  were  to  accomplish  any 
thing,  I  must  have  a  locus  standi.  There  was  my 
father's  prin ting-office  ;  he  was  not  without  capital. 
Windsor,  with  its  objects  of  interest,  was  without  a 
newspaper.  Some  day,  not  very  far  off,  should  my 
ambition  gain  me  the  conduct  of  such  a  journal  ?  I 
felt  that  the  vocation  of  a  journalist — even  of  a  pro 
vincial  journalist — required  thought,  energy,  various 
knowledge.  I  applied  myself  to  study  the  history  of 
my  country  and  the  nature  of  its  institutions.  I 
had  De  Lolme  and  Blackstone  often  at  my  side. 
Burke  enchanted  me.  Yet  I  did  not  wholly  sur 
render  my  political  faith  to  the  eloquent  philosophy 
which  had  become  Toryism,  and  which,  in  the  dread 
of  the  French  Revolution,  was  opposed  to  every 
change  and  every  obvious  remedy  for  the  grossest 


70  EARLY   REMINISCENCES  I 

abuses.  The  Hunts — John  and  Leigh — began  to 
publish  "The  Examiner"  in  1808.  To  my  enthu 
siastic  views,  the  Hunts  were  the  true  men — almost 
the  only  ones  who  spoke  the  truth — jas  the  younger 
brother  was  the  most  winning  of  periodical  writers. 
Then  there  was  the  "Edinburgh  Review." — advo 
cating  Catholic  Emancipation  and  many  practical 
reforms  which  were  held  as  dangerous  innovations, 
and  which,  in  their  terror  of  the  word  "  innovation," 
legislators  were  afraid  to  touch.  But  when  the  Re 
viewers  were  indiscriminately  denouncing  the  conduct 
of  the  war  and  the  imbecility  of  the  Government — 
bitter  in  their  sarcasms  against  administrative  mis 
takes,  depressing  in  their  belief  of  the  hopelessness 
of  the  contest,  and  ungenerous  in  their  appreciation  of 
the  only  military  leader  who  seemed  likely  to  stand 
between  the  living  and  the  dead  and  stay  the  plague, 
— I  could  see,  however  imperfectly,  the  one-sidedness 
of  political  partizanship  which  neutralized  the  best 
efforts  of  the  Whig  Journal.  Conflicting  opinions 
sometimes  distracted  me.  There  were  the  alterna 
tions  of  joy  and  of  gloom,  of  confidence  and  of  despair, 
as  the  events  of  1808-9  presented  themselves  to 
view.  The  insurrection  of  the  Spanish  Patriots  was 
a  beacon-light  amidst  the  darkness.  The  people 
were  shouting  one  day  for  Wellesley's  triumph  over 
Junot,  and  the  next  day  cursing  the  Convention  of 
Cintra.  Moore  had  marched  into  Spain  in  No 
vember  ;  on  the  1st  of  January  he  had  accomplished 
his  disastrous  retreat  to  Corunna,  there  won  a  vic 
tory  and  died  a  soldier's  death.  Never  shall  I  forget 
my  feelings  on  the  bitter  cold  day  on  which  this 
news  arrived,  nor  the  indignation  with  which,  some 
months  after,  his  Journal  was  perused.  There  came 


A    PRELUDE.  71 

to  Windsor  the  son  of  a  joiner,  who  had  left  his 
father's  house  a  stalwart  dragoon,  and  returned 
crippled  and  emaciated  from  the  Spanish  campaign. 
He  lent  me  his  simple  diary  of  his  sufferings  and 
privations,  which  told  of  the  horrors  of  war  far 
more  forcibly  than  the  newspaper  reports  of  the 
wounded  and  fever-stricken  who  filled  the  hospitals. 
The  public  mind  was  inflamed  by  the  mixed  feelings 
of  disappointment  and  pity.  Then  came  the  wretched 
inquiry  into  the  conduct  of  the  Duke  of  York.  The 
hopes  that  had  been  revived  of  Germany  being 
roused  to  resistance  were  dissipated  by  the  battle  of 
Wagra'm.  The  expectation  of  a  mighty  blow  to  be 
struck  by  England  single-handed  against  France,  by 
the  greatest  armament  that  had  ever  left  our  shores, 
came  to  an  end  in  the  pestilent  marshes  of  Wal~ 
cheren.  Talavera  failed  to  raise  the  once-sanguine 
national  spirit.  It  was  a  long  while  before  many 
people  warmed  into  hope  and  confidence  ;  months, 
and  even  years,  before  they  could  fully  learn  to  dis 
believe  the  prophecies  of  the  Whigs,  and  refuse  to 
throw  themselves  in  the  dust  before  the  car  of  the 
conqueror.  For  myself,  I  had  the  old  patriotic  asso 
ciations  around  me  to  prevent  me  wholly  agreeing 
with  the  freeholders  of  my  county  in  their  address 
to  the  King,  that,  "  under  the  government  of  persons 
apparently  inadequate  to  avert  the  dangers  and  diffi 
culties  of  the  country,  we  see  no  end  to  our  misfor 
tunes."  I  was  not  yet  prepared  to  write  Finis 
Anglicv.  With  my  fellow-townspeople  of  all  ranks 
and  ages,  I  went  into  the  boundless  excitement  of 
the  Jubilee  of  the  25th  of  October  ;  was  a  managei 
of  the  ox-roasting  in  the  Bachelor's  Acre  ;  marched 
in  a  procession  of  Bachelors,  in  the  evening  costume 


72  .  EARLY    REMINISCENCES  : 

of  blue  coat,  white  waistcoat,  knee-breeches,  and  silk 
stockings,  to  present  slices  of  the  ox  on  a  silver  salver 
to  the  Queen  and  Princesses  ;  danced  at  the  Jubi 
lee  Ball,  at  the  Town  Hall ;  and  wrote  satirical 
verses  upon  the  genteel  exclusives  who  attempted 
to  separate  the  attorneys'  wives  and  daughters  from 
the  grocers'  wives  and  daughters,  by  stretching  a 
silken  rope  across  the  room,  thus  forming  two  sets. 
I  somehow  recollect  that  the  plebeian  ladies  were  as 
well  dressed,  and  rather  more  beautiful,  than  those 
above  the  rope,  so  that  a  good  many  of  the  exalted 
were  left  without  partners — at  least,  by  the  younger 
officers  of  the  Blues  and  the  Stafford  Militia. 

Windsor  was  a  town  that  had  ceased,  in  those  days, 
to  be  the  residence  of  many  persons  of  independent 
fortunes.  There  was  mushroom  gentility  growing  up 
at  the  Castle's  foot ;  there  was  the  unapproachable 
dignity  of  Canons  of  Windsor  and  Fellows  of  Eton  ; 
there  were  the  pretensions  of  brewers  and  corn- 
dealers,  who  flattered  themselves  that  they  ranked 
far  above  shopkeepers.  An  atmosphere  of  proud 
ignorance  was  surrounding  the  whole  region.  I  had 
a  confident  belief  that  I  could  do  something,  among 
my  own  class,  to  dissipate  this  fog.  In  1810  I  formed 
some  dozen  young  men  into  a  Reading  Society.  W"e 
hired  a  room  of  the  corporation  in  connection  with 
the  Town  Hall.  They  elected  me  their  President. 
Twenty-three  years  afterwards  Sir  John  Herschel  was 
the  President  of  a  similar  society  at  Windsor  ;  and  in 
a  lecture  which  I  then  delivered  I  told  my  old  towns 
men  how  we  had  failed,  and  what  were  the  changes 
of  opinion  that  had  made  one  of  the  greatest  scientific 
men  of  the  age  a  leader  in  the  diffusion  of  intelli 
gence,  whilst  ridicule  awaited  the  earlier  effort  of 


A   PRELUDE.  73 

myself  and  a  few  others.  In  the  old  box  of  forgotten 
records  of  my  tentative  progress  to  usefulness  in  my 
generation,  I  find  my  inaugural  address.  Let  me 
copy  a  passage  to  exhibit  a  specimen  of  the  good  old 
times : — 

"An  opinion  has  been  set  forth  with  no  little 
activity,  and  with  a  plausibility  of  ridicule  sufficient 
to  actuate  those  who  ought  to  have  united  most 
cordially  in  this  measure — a  cry  which  has  been 
raised  in  the  haunts  of  the  ignorant  and  at  the 
tables  of  the  educated — that  it  is  departing  from  our 
proper  sphere  of  action  to  engage  in  pursuits  of  this 
nature.  These  sagacious  reasoners  would  imply  that 
the  common  reward  of  ordinary  occupation  is  suffi 
cient  to  engross  every  faculty  of  the  industrious  part 
of  the  community.  No  pursuits  shall  fill  up  the  hour 
of  relaxation  but  those  of  trifling  vulgarity  or  listless 
inaction.  Good  heavens !  when  I  devote  myself  to 
occupations  which  are  alike  rendered  necessary  by 
my  duty  and  my  interest,  am  I  to  extinguish  every 
honourable  and  praiseworthy  feeling  and  rest  satisfied 
with  the  torpid  exercise  of  daily  drudgery  ?  When 
these  cold-hearted  bigots  would  thus  exclude  me  from 
every  gratification  of  intellect,  why  do  they  not 
demand  that  I  should  close  my  eyes  to  the  appear 
ances  of  universal  nature,  where  every  object  excites 
my  curiosity  and  my  wonder  ?  I  am  so  sufficiently 
convinced  of  the  dignity  and  importance  of  an  indus 
trious  life,  that  I  will  never  exchange  it  for  the  gaudy 
insipidity  of  luxurious  idleness ;  but  I  will  yet  ear 
nestly  endeavour  to  raise  its  importance,  by  acquisi 
tions  that  will  exempt  me  from  the  oppressions  of 
power  or  the  arrogance  of  wealth." 

Let  me  not,  looking   back  upon  these  days,  do 
4 


76  EARLY    REMINISCENCES  I 

the  next  day  the  physicians  would  allow  his  Majesty 
to  appear  in  public.  On  that  Monday  morning  it 
was  said  that  his  saddle-horse  was  ordered  to  be  got 
ready.  This  truly  was  no  wild  rumour.  We  crowded 
to  the  Park  and  the  Castle  Yard.  The  favourite 
horse  was  there.  The  venerable  'man,  blind  but 
steady,  was  soon  in  the  saddle,  as  I  had  often  seen 
him, — a  hobby-groom  at  his  side  with  a  leading 
rein.  He  rode  through  the  Little  Park  to  the  Great 
Park.  The  bells  rang  ;  the  troops  fired  a/<m  dejoie. 
The  King  returned  to  the  Castle  within  an  hour.  He 
was  never  again  seen  outside  those  walls. 

The  failure  of  my  scheme  of  an  association  for 
mutual  improvement  was  a  blow  to  me.  I  had  other 
mortifications  which  disgusted  me  more  and  more 
with  my  position,  and  made  me  fear  that  it  would  be 
a  wild  attempt  to  establish  a  journal  at  Windsor.  I 
was  again  driven  to  the  moody  companionship  of  my 
own  thoughts.  For  two  years  the  dear  tutor  of  my 
school-days  at  Baling  had  resided  near  Windsor — 
occasionally  doing  duty  at  our  church — once  more 
my  warm  friend  and  instructor.  Under  his  guidance 
I  accomplished  a  distant  and  a  wearisome  travel,  but 
with  a,  new  sense  of  pleasure  in  beholding  unfamiliar 
scenes.  With  him  I  saw  the  sea  for  the  first  time. 
With  him  I  made  the  tedious  and  somewhat 
perilous  passage  from  London  Bridge  to  Margate. 
Ye  happier  youths  and  maidens  of  another  gene 
ration,  smile  not  at  the  epithets  I  bestow  upon  this 
sail  upon  a  summer-sea.  None  of  you  citizens  of  the 
25th  of  Victoria  can  fitly  understand  what  those  had 
to  go  through  in  the  50th  of  George  III.,  who  ven 
tured  upon  the  deck  of  a  Margate  hoy.  The  quick 
run  in  the  steamer  from  Tilbury  after  the  comfortable 


A  PRELUDB.  77 

early  dinner,  and  then  your  shrimps  and  tea  in  your 
lodging-house  long  before  the  sun  is  down — contrast 
these  delights  with,  what  I  have  to  remember.  A 
hurried  breakfast  at  six,  so  as  to  be  on  board  at 
seven  ;  two  hours  of  danger  amidst  the  colliers  in  the 
Pool ;  a  pelting  storm  in  the  river,  with  no  luxurious 
cabin  to  fly  to  ;  Gravesend  clock  striking  two  as  we 
drifted  past  the  dingy  town ;  hungry ;  the  steward 
provided  with  no  more  tempting  fare  than  a  slice  of 
hard  boiled-beef  and  a  lump  of  stony  cheese  ;  no 
drink  but  rum  and  water,  for  brandy  was  almost 
unknown  and  soda-water  undiscovered ;  the  wind 
rising;  the  waves  raging;  groans  above  and  below; 
darkness  soon  after  we  had  passed  the  Nore ;  then 
the  hoy  becalmed  off  Herne  Bay ;  Margate  cliffs  in 
sight  as  another  morning  breaks;  no  pier  to  land  at; 
a  pickaback  ride  through  the  surf  in  a  dirty  fellow's 
grasp  ;  a  struggle  between  the  temptations  of  break 
fast  or  bed  ;  a  decision  for  bed ;  and  a  second  day  al 
most  gone  before  we  can  find  our  appetite  or  our  legs. 
Circumstances  too  soon  removed  the  friend  of  my 
boyhood  to  a  distant  part  of  the  country.  I  was 
alone.  I  pined  for  the  conversation  of  educated  men. 
No  one  took  heed  of  me.  I  writhed  under  neglect ; 
but  I  lost  little  in  not  being  familiar  with  those 
above  me  in  station.  There  was  a  coarseness  of 
manners,  not  only  amongst  half-pay  officers  and 
retired  tradesmen,  but  amongst  persons  of  indepen 
dent  means  and  good  families — aye,  even  amongst 
courtiers — which  revolted  me.  I  have  heard  at  our 
mayor's  feast  toasts  proposed  by  men  whose  rank  gave 
them  a  claim  to  the  seats  of  honour,  which  the  lowest 
and  the  most  ignorant  would  now  be  ashamed  to  utter. 
Notwithstanding  my  strong  local  attachment,  I  grew 


78  EARLY    REMINISCENCES. 

to  be  thoroughly  disgusted  with  my  position  at 
Windsor.  About  this  time  I  became  possessed  of  a 
small  entailed  estate  at  Tver,  which  I  fancied  would 
give  me  the  means  of  emancipation  from  a  life  that 
had  become  distasteful  to  me.  I  entreated  my  father 
to  enter  me  as  a  student  at  one  of  the  Inns  of  Court. 
He  at  last  gave  a  reluctant  consent,  and  went  to 
London,  to  make  the  necessary  arrangements,  as  I 
believed.  We  neither  of  us  knew  much  about  the  pro 
bationary  condition  of  a  barrister's  life,  and  it  was 
necessary  to  obtain  some  accurate  information.  His 
friend,  the  Editor  of  a  daily  paper  (of  whom  I  shall 
have  more  particularly  to  speak),  dissuaded  my  father 
from  encouraging  my  ambition.  My  father  returned 
with  such  a  dismal  picture  of  the  life  which  I  had 
courted,  that  I  somewhat  doggedly  resumed  my  easy 
and  inglorious  occupation  ;  not  without  a  belief  that 

"  There's  a  Divinity  that  shapes  our  ends, 
Rough-hew  them  how  we  will." 

I  stand  upon  the  threshold  of  "  A  Working  Life 
during  Half  a  Century."  I  had  a  few  months  of 
experiment  before  the  final  choice  of  a  career ;  but 
those  months  brought  with  them  new  responsibilities, 
which  were  essentially  work.  My  trade  apprentice 
ship  was  ended. 


PASSAGES  OF  A  WORKING  LIFE 


Cfje  Jtrst 


PASSAGES  OF  A  WOBKING  LIFE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

CCASIONAL  glimpses  of  London  had 
been  allowed  to  me  in  my  boyish  days. 
In  February,  1812,  I  was  to  be  a  resident 
therein  for  some  weeks  ;  to  hear  the  pul 
sations  of  the  mighty  heart ;  to  be  face  to  face  with 
great  public  things.  My  father's  friend,  Mr.  George 
Lane,  was  the  editor  of  a  morning  paper,  the  "British 
Press,"  and  of  an  evening  paper,  the  "Globe."  The 
office  of  these  papers  was  in  the  Strand,  on  the  pre 
mises  where  the  "Globe"  is  still  published.  Under 
his  general  guidance  I  was  to  have  a  brief  apprentice 
ship  as  an  honorary  member  of  the  staff  of  reporters 
belonging  to  his  establishment.  I  might  make  myself 
useful  if  I  could  ;  but  I  was  under  no  serious  responsi 
bility.  I  had,  however,  so  much  eagerness  to  behold 
the  novel  and  exciting  matters  which  such  a  position 
offered  to  me — if  possible  to  render  them  an  important 
part  of  my  education — that  my  willingness  to  work 
soon  obtained  me  work  to  do.  I  was  placed  under  the 
care  of  my  friend's  stepson,  upon  whom  devolved  the 
duty  of  arranging  the  division  of  labour  amongst 
the  reporters,  but  taking  no  share  himself  in  their 
actual  work.  He  was  a  kind-hearted  Irishman,  some- 


80  PASSAGES   OF   A    WORKING   LIFE  I 

wliat  duller  than  most  of  his  literary  countrymen ; 
not  very  zealous  in  the  enforcement  of  discipline 
amongst  the  troop  of  which  he  was  the  lieutenant ; 
more  frequently  to  be  found  in  the  neighbouring 
coffee-houses  than  in  the  Gallery ;  but,  nevertheless, 
useful  in  picking  up  the  on  dits  of  the  LoViy.  I 
walked  with  him  to  the  House  on  the  second  day  of 
my  new  town-life. 

To  gratify  the  curiosity  of  the  youth  from  the 
country,  we  go  through  Westminster  Hall.  The 
little  shops  of  the  seventeenth  century  and  much 
later  have  been  cleared  away.  Soane's  ugly  and 
inconvenient  Courts  between  the  buttresses  have  not 
yet  been  built.  Within  the  hall,  near  the  entrance 
in  Palace  Yard,  are  two  trumpery  wooden  buildings, 
the  Court  of  Common  Pleas,  and  the  Court  of  Ex 
chequer.  At  the  upper  end  of  the  hall  are  two 
similar  erections,  the  Court  of  King's  Bench,  and 
the  Court  of  Chancery.  We  pass  below  these  through 
a  small  door  in  the  corner,  and  are  quickly  in  the 
Exchequer  Coffee-house.  There,  apart  from  other 
company,  are  half  a  dozen  gentlemen  very  merry 
over  their  wine.  I  am  introduced  to  one  or  two  of 
these  gentlemen,  and  am  invited  to  take  a  glass  with 
them.  Though  somewhat  prodigal  amongst  them 
selves  of  what  we  now  call  "  chaff,"  they  spared  the 
shy  stripling  who  suddenly  found  himself  in  the 
midst  of  men  of  talent,  who,  whether  attached  to  the 
"  Chronicle,"  the  "  Post,"  or  the  "  Times,"  appeared 
to  regard  all  political  questions  with  the  sublimest 
indifference.  One  I  especially  remember  as  looking 
upon  the  laughing  side  of  human  affairs,  and  never 
unmindful  of  the  enjoyment  of  the  passing  hour,  even 
amidst  the  monotonous  performance  of  his  duty  in 


THE    FIRST   EPOCH.  81 

the  reporter's  function.  Age  could  not  wither,  nor  cus 
tom  stale,  the  infinite  sociality  of  William  Jerdan,  as  I 
knew  him  in  years  when  the  third  and  fourth  Georges 
had  passed  away.  I  saw  that,  in  this  pleasant  party, 
he  was  not  alone  in  his  conviction  that  when  one  of  the 
orators  who  could  quickly  empty  the  House  was  up,  he 
might  linger  awhile  before  he  took  his  turn,  and  pick 
up  something  of  what  the  bore  had  said  from  those 
who  had  had  the  misfortune  to  note  his  platitudes. 
We  are  at  last  in  the  lobby  of  the  House  of  Com- 
mons — not  a  grand  vestibule,  but  a  shabby  room 
with  a  low  ceiling.  We  enter  by  a  swing  door — mem 
bers  and  strangers  indiscriminately — and  move  to  the 
left  side  of  the  gangway  by  which  members  pass  to 
the  sacred  door  of  the  house.  We  stand  by  the  fire 
place.  My  companion  has  some  information  to 
obtain  from  an  Irish  member  of  his  acquaintance — 
perhaps  he  has  only  to  ask  for  a  frank — and  he  waits 
his  opportunity.  I  am  somewhat  tired  of  this  delay, 
and  long  to  be  looking  upon  the  stirring  scene  within. 
For  ever  and  anon,  as  the  door  opens,  I  hear  a  loud 
voice,  and  catch  a  peep  of  a  member  gesticulating 
amidst  cheers  and  laughter,  and  the  Speaker  crying 
"  Order  !  order  !  "  At  length  we  ascend  the  narrow 
stairs  to  the  Strangers'  Gallery.  I  am  allowed  to 
pass  as  a  reporter.  It  is  the  sole  privilege  accorded 
to  those  without  whom  Parliament  would  become  a 
voice  shut  up  in  a  cavern.  The  gallery  is  crowded 
with  members'  constituents,  who  have  come  with 
orders,  much  to  the  annoyance  of  the  guardian  of 
the  toll-bar  on  the  stairs.  He  would  rather  see  his 
customary  half-crown,  which  others  have  paid.  We 
put  our  heads  in  ;  and  I  observe  on  the  back  bench— 
which  by  its  elevation  commands  a  view  of  the  body 


82  PASSAGES   OF   A   WOKKING    LIFE: 

of  the  House — half-a-dozen  reporters  busily  employed 
with  their  note-books.  This  back  bench  is  theirs  by 
custom,  but  not  by  right.  If  the  gallery  should  be 
cleared  for  a  division,  the  staff  of  the  Journals  will 
take  care  to  keep  as  close  to  the  door  as  possible, 
that  they  may  regain  their  places  after  the  division. 
It  was  later,  if  I  remember  rightly,  that  they  had  a 
separate  door  of  admission  to  this  especial  seat.  It 
was  fourteen  years  later  that  a  Reporters'  Room  was 
assigned  them  at  one  extremity  of  the  gallery  passage. 
It  is  enough  for  me,  on  this  my  first  night,  to  look 
upon  the  general  aspect  of  the  House.  In  a  week  or 
two,  by  persevering  attendance,  I  become  familiar 
with  the  personal  appearance  of  the  leaders  on  either 
side.  To  the  right  of  the  Speaker,  on  the  ministerial 
bench  there  sit,  Spencer  Perceval,  Chancellor  of  the 
Exchequer  ;  Vicary  Gibbs,  Attorney-General ;  Ryder, 
Home  Secretary ;  George  Rose  ;  Palmerston ;  Croker. 
Castlereagh  is  sitting  high  up  above  the  Treasury 
bench.  Canning  is  on  the  cross  bench  below.  To 
the  left  of  the  Speaker  are  Ponsonby,  Brougham, 
Burdett,  Grattan,  Horner,  Romilly,  Sheridan,  Tier- 
ney,  Whitbread.  All  of  these  are  gone  but  two,  to 
whom  it  has  been  permitted  to  vindicate  the  belief 
that  it  is  the  privilege  of  genius  never  to  grow  old. 
I  practise  myself  in  reporting  for  my  own  amusement 
and  instruction.  In  not  writing  short-hand,  I  have 
no  inferiority  to  the  experienced  men  around  me  ;  for 
I  observe  that  very  few  have  acquired,  or  at  any  rate 
employ,  that  useful  art.  The  debates  of  1812  were 
not  expected  to  be  reported  so  fully  as  in  more  recent 
times.  Often  members  complained  that  their  sayings 
were  misrepresented.  Such  complaints  were  gene 
rally  met  by  a  disposition  on  the  part  of  the  House 


THE  FIRST  EPOCH.  83 

to  punish  the  offender.  It  was  very  daring  in  Mr. 
Brougham  to  hint,  on  such  an  occasion  in  1812,  that 
"  Gentlemen  should  consider  the  disadvantages  under 
which  reports  of  their  debates  were  taken."  With  a 
mock  solemnity  the  Speaker  called  "  Order  !  "  and 
the  cry  of  "  Order  ! "  echoed  through  the  House.  To 
recognise  the  presence  at  its  debates  of  the  obscure 
strangers  who  sat  on  the  back  bench  of  the  gallery 
would  have  been  to  compromise  the  privileges  of 
Parliament.  This  hypocrisy  was  a  queer  relic  of  those 
times  when  the  repression  of  public  opinion  was  held 
to  be  the  security  of  the  State. 

Thursday,  the  27th  of  February,  is  to  be  a  great 
field-day  in  the  Commons.  I  must  be  there  at  noon, 
to  secure  a  seat  in  the  gallery.  There  I  sit,  looking 
upon  the  empty  House  till  the  Speaker  comes  in. 
The  prayers  are  read,  and  some  uninteresting  orders 
of  the  day  are  disposed  of.  Strangers  are  crowding 
in,  and  we  hold  our  places  as  well  as  we  can  against 
the  rush.  There  are  apparently  two  or  three  seats 
vacant  on  the  front  bench.  A  wicked  gentleman  of 
the  press  suggests  to  a  despairing  provincial  that 
there  he  may  be  accommodated.  He  strides  and 
pushes  to  the  desired  haven,  amidst  a  suppressed 
titter,  and  is  horror-struck  to  find  that  there  he  can 
neither  see  nor  hear.  The  back  of  the  great  clock 
is  his  obstructing  enemy.  This  is  the  standing  joke 
nightly  repeated.  It  was  as  successful  in  producing  a 
titter  as  the  Timeo  Danaos  below,  when  it  was  the 
fashion  for  young  and  even  old  members  to  air  their 
musty  Latin  in  bald  quotations,  as  some  lady  novelists 
interlard  their  feeble  English  with  boarding-school 
French.  The  routine  business  is  over.  The  battle 
is  about  to  begin.  Sir  Thomas  Turton  is  to  bring 


84  PASSAGES   OF   A  WORKING   LIFE: 

on  a  motion  on  the  state  of  the  nation.  He  was  a 
true  professor  of  the  Whig  creed — that  the  contest 
against  the  French  Emperor  was  hopeless — that  the. 
Spanish  war  would  last  as  long  as  the  Peloponnesian, 
with  little  probability  of  success.  He  touched  upon 
the  Orders  in  Council ;  but  was  told  by  the  clever 
ministerial  supporter,  Mr.  Robinson,  that  such  dis 
cussion  had  better  be  reserved  for  the  forthcoming 
debate,  upon  the  motion  of  which  notice  had  been 
given  "by  a  learned  gentleman  of  great  talents  and 
extensive  information."  In  two  years  from  the  time 
when  he  had  made  his  maiden  speech,  Mr.  Brougham 
had  thus  become  an  authority  in  the  House.  The 
debate  of  the  27th  of  February  was  spirited.  It 
appeared  likely  to  close  at  an  early  hour,  for  the 
gallery  was  being  cleared  for  a  division.  But  Mr. 
Whitbread  rose,  and  called  upon  Lord  Castlereagh  to 
give  some  explanation  of  his  views,  especially  upon 
the  Catholic  question,  now  that  he  was  likely  to 
become  a  member  of  the  Administration.  The  Mar 
quis  Wellesley  had  resigned  the  seals  of  the  Foreign 
Office  a  week  before.  The  most  important  declara 
tions  of  the  session  were  thus  called  forth.  Mr.  Per 
ceval  and  Lord  Castlereagh  declared  that  they  and 
the  Ministry  were  unanimous  against  granting  the 
Catholic  claims  now.  The  debate  was  dragging  on 
till  two  o'clock.  The  reporters  had  expected  that, 
after  the  speech  of  the  Prime  Minister,  the  House 
would  divide.  I  was  left  by  the  staff  of  the  "  British 
Press"  to  make  a  short  note  if  anything  should  occur. 
Up  rose  Mr.'  Canning.  Somewhat  alarmed  I  began 
to  write.  I  gained  confidence.  His  graceful  sentences 
had  no  involved  construction  to  render  them  difficult 
to  follow.  His  impressive  elocution  fixed  his  words 


THE    FIRST   EPOCH.  85 

in  mf  memory.  Some  matters  I  necessarily  passed 
over  ;  but  the  great  point  of  his  speech,  that  he 
was  for  speedily  granting  the  Catholic  claims  with 
due  safeguards,  was  an  important  one  for  the  journal 
which  I  was  suddenly  called  upon  to  represent,  and 
I  caught  the  spirit,  if  not  the  full  words,  of  the 
declaration  in  which  he  stood  opposed  to  the 
Minister,  and  to  his  own  ancient  rival.  I  ran  to 
the  office  (for  young  legs  were  faster  than  hackney- 
coaches),  wrote  rny  report,  to  the  astonishment  of 
the  regular  staff  of  reporters,  and  went  happy  to 
bed  at  five  o'clock.  I  doubt  whether  any  literary 
success  of  my  afterlife  gave  me  as  much  pleasure 
as  this  feat. 

The  accomplished  wife  of  my  friend  the  editor  held 
a  sort  of  levee  every  morning  in  her  drawing-room. 
Whilst  he  was  labouring  upon  his  evening  papers, 
Mrs.  Lane  was  picking  up  the  gossip  of  the  town 
from  members  of  Parliament  who  dropped  in — from 
authors,  players,  and  artists.  On  the  morning  of  the 
28th,  Lord  Byron  was  the  great  theme  in  his  capa 
city  of  politician,  when  we  were  anxiously  expecting 
a  poem  whose  excellence  was  bruited  abroad.  The 
night  before,  he  had  delivered  his  maiden  speech  in 
the  House  of  Lords,  against  the  Bill  for  making  the 
destruction  or  injury  of  stocking  or  lace  frames  a 
capital  offence.  It  was  a  set  speech — declamatory 
rather  than  reasoning.  He  believed  that  it  was  a 
great  speech,  and  had  a  right  so  to  believe  from  the 
compliments  that  were  paid  him  in  the  House.  A 
week  after  this  appeared  "  Childe  Harold."  He  says 
in  one  of  his  journals,  "  Nobody  ever  thought  of  my 
prose  afterwards,  nor  indeed  did  I."  It  was  then 
that  he  awoke  one  morning  and  found  himself 


86  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING  LIFE: 

famous.  It  is  difficult,  after  the  lapse  of  half  a 
century,  to  describe,  without  the  appearance  of  ex 
aggeration,  the  effect  which  Lord  Byron's  poetry 
produced,  year  after  year,  upon  the  younger  minds 
of  that  time.  Its  tone  was  in  harmony  with  the 
great  vicissitudes  of  the  world.  Its  passionate  ex 
hibition  of  deep  and  often  morbid  feelings  was 
akin  with  the  emotions  that  were  engendered  by 
the  tremendous  struggle  in  which  England  was  en 
gaged — its  alternations  of  rapture  and  depression,  its 
courage  and  its  despair.  What  we  now  call  "sensa 
tion  "  dramas  and  "  sensation  "  novels  are  the  lineal 
descendants  of  the  verse  romances  in  which,  under 
every  variety  of  clime  and  costume,  Byron  was  pour 
ing  forth  his  own  feelings — indifferent  to  the  possible 
injury  to  others  of  that  contempt  for  the  conven 
tionalities  of  society  which  made  him  parade  his 
misanthropy  and  his  scepticism,  his  loves  and  his 
hatreds,  before  all  mankind.  The  corruption  thus 
engendered  was  more  the  corruption  of  taste  than 
of  morals.  Our  Castalian  spring  became  insipid 
without  a  dash  of  alcohol.  Scott  paled  in  this 
strong  light.  The  Lake  poets  underwent  an  eclipse. 
This  could  not  have  been  accomplished  without  high 
genius  ;  but  it  may  be  doubted  whether  the  sensual 
egotism  of  Byron  would  have  ever  allowed  him  to 
take  a  higher  place  than  he  now  takes  amongst  the 
English  immortals. 

My  life  during  these  two  months  in  London  was  a 
round  of  excitement.  The  theatre  was  open  to  me 
— the  one  theatre,  Covent  Garden,  where  I  could  see 
John  Kemble  and  Charles  Young,  and  the  best  comic 
actors — where  once,  and  once  only,  I  saw  Mrs.  Sid- 
dons,  before  she  left  the  stage  in  June  of  that  year. 


THE   FIKST   EPOCH.  87 

Drury  Lane  was  being  rebuilt.  There  was  no  other 
theatre  in  London,  except  "the  little  theatre  in  the 
Haymarket "  for  summer  performances.  The  theatri 
cal  monopoly  was  vigorously  contended  for  by  what 
was  deemed  the  liberal  party  in  Parliament.  A  Bill 
had  been  brought  in  for  establishing  a  new  theatre 
for  dramatic  entertainments  within  the  cities  of  Lon 
don  and  Westminster.  It  was  opposed,  because,  said 
some  Liberals  who  had  become  shareholders  in  Drury 
Lane,  it  went  to  supersede  the  royal  prerogative  for 
granting  licences  for  dramatic  exhibition.  It  ^as 
in  vain  urged  that  the  monopolists  had  built  play 
houses  in  which  a  great  many  could  see  and  no  one 
could  hear,  and  thus  we  had  dogs,  elephants,  and 
horses  introduced  on  the  stage.  Mr.  Whitbread, 
who  had  taken  an  active  part  in  the  rebuilding 
of  Drury  Lane  upon  the  same  principle  of  sacrificing 
sense  to  show,  contended  that  the  taste  of  the  people 
must  be  followed  as  well  as  guided.  With  these 
notions,  Mr.  Whitbread  was  to  become  a  caterer  for 
the  public  taste,  as  one  of  the  committee  of  manage 
ment  for  the  theatre  upon  whose  portico  Shakspere 
was  set  to  shiver  outside,  little  regarded  till  the 
greatest  of  modern  actors  should  bring  him  once 
more  into  fashion. 

Of  the  many  intellectual  excitements — not  with 
out  accompanying  temptations  to  which  I  was  ex 
posed, — the  most  attractive  was  the  Club  of  the 
Eccentrics.  Mr.  Peter  Cunningham,  in  his  admirable 
"Hand-book  of  London,"  tells  us  that  in  May's 
Buildings,  St.  Martin's  Lane,  the  Sutherland  Arms 
w  was  the  favourite  place  of  meeting  of  '  the  Eccen 
trics,'  a  club  of  privileged  wits  so  called."  The  wits 
had  certainly  not  here  any  exclusive  possession  of  the 


88  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE! 

privileges  of  such  a  club  ;  for  without  a  considerable 
infusion  of  dulness  they  would  have  missed  many 
an  opportunity  for  the  exercise  of  their  time-honoured 
art, — "  to  cut  blocks  with  a  razor."  On  ordinary 
nights  the  company  at  the  Sutherland  Arms  had  as 
little  pretensions  to  the  character  of  wits  as  the 
members  of  Goldsmith's  "  Muzzy  Club."  They  ate 
their  kidneys  ;  they  smoked  their  pipes  ;  they  read 
the  newspaper  ;  and  they  made  profound  reflections 
upon  the  war  and  the  ministry.  But  upon  Saturday 
nights  the  calm  is  invaded  by  a  rush  of  reporters.  On 
such  a  night  I  am  admitted,  upon  payment  of  the  fee 
of  half-a-crown ;  am  duly  harangued  by  the  chairman 
chosen  for  the  occasion,  who  descants  upon  the  glories 
of  a  society  which  numbered  the  greatest  of  the  age  ; 
sign  my  name  in  the  big  book,  which  really  contains 
some  records  of  the  illustrious,  and  am  glad  to 
have  made  my  reply,  and  have  gone  to  a  table  to 
eat  my  supper.  Then  it  is  moved  that  the  chair 
should  be  taken  by  Mr.  Jones,  to  hear  "  a  charge." 
For  three  hours  I  listen  to  gleams  of  wit  and  flashes 
of  eloquence — intermingled  with  the  occasional  ven 
tures  of  a  rash  ambition  which  provoke  laughter, 
and  with  small  attempts  at  fun  which  call  forth 
groans — so  that  midnight  arrives  and  I  have  no 
disposition  for  rest.  A  name  or  two  of  those  to 
whom  I  have  rapturously  listened  have  not  alto 
gether  perished  out  of  the  ken  of  a  new  generation. 
Richard  Lalor  Sheil  belongs  to  history.  Once  or 
twice  I  was  witness  to  the  profound  admiration, 
entertained  by  men  who  were  not  incompetent 
judges,  of  the  wondrous  eloquence  of  a  reporter 
named  Brownley.  Some  of  the  elders  of  the  company 
told  me  that  he  came  nearer  to  the  excellences  of 


THE   FIRST  EPOCH.  89 

Burke  than  any  living  man.  He  was  not  a  Burke  ; 
for  the  orgies  of  the  night  clouded  the  intellect  of  the 
morning.  Undoubtedly  his  powers  were  very  wonder 
ful.  He  poured  forth  a  torrent  of  words  ;  but  far  more 
regulated  by  a  correct  taste  than  the  flowery  metaphors 
of  Sheil.  Brownley  had  a  lofty  figure  and  a  grand 
massive  head.  Sheil  presented  a  singular  contrast 
to  him  in  person  and  in  his  rapid  utterance  and 
violent  gestures.  Sheil  was  then  little  known  ;  and 
when  he  had  finished  his  oration,  Mr.  Quin,  the 
editor  of  a  daily  paper,  rushed  forward  with,  "  Sir, 
I  honour  ye — dine  with  me  to-morrow."  Less 
aspiring  in  his  declamation  than  Brownley  was 
William  Mudford,  the  editor  of  the  "  Courier,"  but 
singularly  neat  in  his  logical  precision  and  his 
mild  sarcasm.  J.  P.  Davis  (Pope  Davis,  as  he 
was  called,  from  a  great  picture  which  he  painted 
at  Rome — the  Presentation  of  Lord  Shrewsbury's 
Family  to  the  Pope)  did  not  belong  to  the  Reporting 
tribe.  We  have  missed  him  lately,  in  a  green  old 
age,  doing  violence  to  the  natural  kindness  of  his 
heart  by  an  intense  hatred  of  the  Royal  Academy, 
in  which  he  persevered  to  the  last,  and  in  which 
he  was  ever  associated  with  his  friend  Haydon. 

It  is  time  to  close  these  rambling  Reminiscences  of 
the  London  of  1812.  I  went  back  to  Windsor  with 
some  enlargement  of  my  intellectual  vision.  The 
realities  of  life  had  cured  me  of  many  day-dreams. 
In  the  House  of  Commons  I  had  looked  night  after 
night  upon  the  grand  spectacle  of  an  assembly  that, 
without  any  of  the  outward  semblances  of  power,  filled 
the  world  with  a  mysterious  influence  which  kept 
alive  the  sacred  fire  of  liberty  amongst  the  nations. 


90  PASSAGES    OF  A  WOEKING    LIFE  : 

It  was  an  assembly  imbued  with  party  spirit,  but  that 
spirit  was  raised  into  virtue  by  the  common  love  of 
country.  Not  in  that  House — nor  in  that  other  seat 
of  legislation,  in  which  the  principle  of  honour  was 
mainly  derived  from  long  lines  of  ancestry — would 
any  one  who  "  spake  the  tongue  which  Shakspere 
spake,"  ever  think  of  succumbing  to  the  gigantic 
ambition  which  was  threatening  to  sweep  away  all 
thrones  and  dominations.  One  land  should  never 
"  lie  at  the  proud  foot  of  a  conqueror."  There,  was 
my  patriotism  stimulated,  even  whilst  political  rival 
ries  appeared  to  forbid  that  union  which  alone  could 
save.  But  what  courtesy  did  I  behold  tempering  the 
strongest  denunciations  and  the  bitterest  sarcasm  ! 
What  self-command — what  restraints  upon  passion — 
what  bursts  of  generosity — what  candour  amidst  the 
most  obstinate  prejudices — marked  these  Commoners 
of  the  realm  as  essentially  the  gentlemen  of  England  ! 
From  this  example,  the  humblest  aspirant  to  the 
character  of  public  instructor  might  learn  to  be  tole 
rant  of  all  honest  opinions — to  be  moderate  in  the 
expression  of  his  own.  In  looking  upon  the  great 
political  gladiators  he  would  perceive  what  talent 
and  knowledge  were  required  to  raise  a  man  to  emi 
nence,  but  especially  he  would  learn  that  honesty 
alone  could  keep  the  high  place  which  ability 
and  unremitting  industry  might  win.  This  lesson 
was  for  the  lowly  as  well  as  for  the  exalted.  I  saw 
this  grand  Parliament  of  England  at  a  grand  time. 
Hope  was  beginning  to  spring  up  out  of  a  long  season 
of  misfortune  and  mismanagement.  I  had  heard  it 
said  in  the  House  of  Commons  on  the  27th  February, 
with  a  mixed  tone  of  reproach  and  despondency, 
"Badajoz,  Gerona,  Tortosa,  Valencia,  and  almost 


THE   FIBST   EPOCH.  01 

every  place  of  strength  in  Spain  are  in  the  hands  of 
the  French."  On  the  23rd  of  April  the  horns  were 
blowing  in  every  thoroughfare,  and  men  were 
bawling  "  News — News — Great  News  ! "  Welling 
ton  had  taken  Badajoz.  The  crisis  of  the  European 
conflict  appeared  to  be  at  hand.  Napoleon  was 
evidently  preparing  for  an  offensive  war  against 
Alexander  of  Russia.  If  my  cherished  project  of  a 
newspaper  could  now  be  carried  out,  the  mighty 
events  of  the  time  would  give  it  an  interest  which 
would  compensate  for  my  editorial  inexperience.  I 
might  do  some  good,  socially  and  intellectually,  with 
such  an  instrument,  humble  as  it  might  be  by  com 
parison  with  the  power  of  the  London  press.  This  was 
a  very  moderate  ambition ;  but  I  was  then  contented 
with  it. 

I  was  heartily  disposed  to  go  about  the  work  that 
was  before  me  in  a  sanguine  spirit — in  a  spirit  which 
perhaps  too  little  regarded  the  chances  of  commercial 
success.  The  field  was  altogether  too  narrow.  To  one 
who  was  to  stand  by  my  side  through  the  battle  of 
life  I  wrote  at  this  transition  period  of  its  course : — 
"  It  shall  go  hard  if  I  do  not  reform  many  things  in 
this  neighbourhood,  and  give  the  inhabitants  a  cha 
racter  that  they  never  possessed.  If  fair  argument 
can  do  it,  they  shall  think  liberally.  I  will  set  out 
as  the  temperate  advocate  of  everything  that  think 
ing  men  will  support — Toleration,  Education  of  the 
Poor,  Diffusion  of  Religious  Knowledge,  Public 
Economy.  I  shall  adopt  the  opinions  of  no  set  of 
men  in  Church  or  State  ;  but  think  for  myself  on  all 
points.  I  belong  to  no  party,  for  I  would  uphold  the 
Roman  Catholics'  moderate  claims  as  the  first  step 
to  public  safety,  and  continue  the  war  in  Spain  as 


92  PASSAGES    OF  A  WORKING    LIFE. 

the  last  resource  of  national  honour.  This  country 
is  full  of  bigotry.  Some  are  afraid  to  educate  the 
poor,  some  are  afraid  of  distributing  Bibles,  and  the 
greater  part  are  afraid  of  Popery.  I  heai  many 
people  who  call  themselves  reasoners  talk  of  the 
Protestant  massacres  in  France  as  arguments  that 
all  Catholics  are  blood-thirsty.  The  fire-brand  of 
religion  will  soon  be  burnt  out.  The  very  miseries 
of  the  present  generation  will  become  the  means 
of  establishing  the  happiness  of  the  next."  In 
transcribing  this  from  a  mirror  of  the  past  which 
lies  before  me,  I  cannot  avoid  what  must  appear 
as  a  parade  of  the  conceit  of  imperfect  education. 
But  it  may  be  a  satisfaction  to  some  other  solitary 
and  obscure  young  man  to  know,  that  self-instruction 
is  not  always  the  worst  preparation  for  arriving  at 
a  due  sense  of  the  serious  moral  responsibility  of  a 
literary  career  which,  even  in  its  humblest  attempts, 
must  be  an  instrument  for  good  or  for  evil.  And 
thus — with  a  considerable  amount  of  multifarious 
reading,  with  slight  knowledge  of  the  world,  with 
aspirations  very  much  out  of  proportion  to  any  chance 
of  their  being  realised — the  1st  of  August,  1812, 
saw  me  established  as  proprietor  with  my  father 
in  the  "  Windsor  and  Eton  Express,"  and  entrusted 
with  its  responsible  editorship.  That  day,  having 
passed  my  twenty-first  year  a  few  months  before,  saw 
me  bound  upon  that  wheel  of  periodical  writing  and 
publishing  which  was  to  revolve  with  me  for  fifty 
years.  It  was  not  to  be  the  torturing  wheel  of  Ixion, 
but  one  whose  revolutions,  wearisome  as  they  some 
times  might  be,  were  often  to  become  sources  of  plea 
surable  excitement. 


CHAPTER  II. 

HE  first  number  of  the  "  Windsor  and  Eton 
Express  "  lies  before  me.  It  looks  to  my 
mind  like  some  relic  of  a  past  era  of  jour 
nalism,  in  which  I  have  no  especial  inte 
rest,  any  more  than  I  have  in  a  fac-simile  of  a 
"Times"  of  the  days  of  Nelson  which  has  been 
recently  published.  I  am  told  that  some  of  the 
middle-aged  inhabitants  of  my  native  town  preserve 
this  first  newspaper  ever  issued  there,  as  a  curiosity 
of  the  time  of  their  fathers — a  piece  of  dim  antiquity 
like  a  guinea  of  George  III.  I  look  anxiously  at 
my  "  Political  Inquirer,"  and  I  do  not  blush  at  my 
earliest  attempts  in  the  vocation  of  "best  public 
instructor." 

Why  do  I  not  blush  at  some  of  these  crude  efforts 
of  inexperience  ?  Because,  although  the  things  which 
I  then  wrote  may  be  something  different  from  my 
maturer  convictions,  they  were  written  under  a  strong 
sense  of  the  serious  nature  of  the  vocation  of  a  public 
writer.  I  dare  say  that,  in  my  want  of  knowledge  of 
the  world,  I  wore  my 

"  Foolscap  uniform  turn'd  up  with  ink  " 

somewhat  too  grandly.  "  Anxious "  I  was,  if  not 
"fine  and  jealous."  But  this  sense  of  my  moral 
responsibility  has  saved  me  from  a  feeling  of  shame, 
as  I  now  look  back  upon  the  feeble  utterances  of  the 


94  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE: 

time  thus  brought  before  me,  something  like  a  dream. 
These  utterances  were  those  of  an  impulsive  young 
man  ;  but  of  one  who  felt  the  duty  of  controlling  his 
inclination  to  express  himself  passionately.  I  wrote 
with  a  motto  from  Locke  always  at  the  head  of  my 
political  essay, — "This  is  a  question  only  of  inquirers, 
not  disputers,  who  neither  affirm,  nor  deny,  but 
examine."  This  motto  often  held  my  hand.  I  had 
a  notion  that  rapid  composition  was  a  test  of  ability. 
I  used  to  task  myself  to  write  a  leading  article  in  a 
given  time.  The  habit  has  been  of  value  to  me  in 
after  life ;  it  is  of  infinite  importance  to  the  journalist. 
But  it  is  of  more  importance  that  what  he  writes 
should  not  at  some  future  day  rise  up  in  j  udgment 
against  him,  "  trumpet-tongued,"  and  convict  him — 
not  of  the  suppressio  veri,  for  that  is  incidental  to 
his  profession,  as  it  is  to  the  barrister's — but  of  the 
assertion  of  opinions  which  were  the  exact  contrary 
of  his  own  convictions.  Let  me  not,  however,  be  held 
to  imply  that  what  is  called  political  consistency  is 
a  virtue  in  the  man  of  advanced  age — that  the  rash 
judgments  of  his  youth  are  to  be  preserved  in  his 
maturity.  The  mind  that  is  not  open  to  the  teach 
ings  of  time,  and  that  chooses  to  stand  upon  its  own 
"  ancient  way,"  and  not  look  around  to  see  "  which 
is  the  right  and  true  way,"  is  worth  little  as  a  guide 
for  the  formation  of  opinion. 

Amongst  the  startling  contrasts  that  are  presented 
between  the  England  of  1812  and  the  England  of 
half  a  century  later,  there  is  perhaps  no  contrast 
more  remarkable  than  that  which  offers  itself  to  my 
mind  in  the  difficulties  of  setting  on  foot  a  news 
paper  at  Windsor,  such  as  I  had  projected  as  an 
easy  and  profitable  employment  for  my  literary 


THE   FIRST   EPOCH.  95 

ambition.  These  rush  upon  my  memory  as  I  look 
upon  my  old  "folio  of  four  pages,"  and  think  of  this 
my  first  venture  upon  a  dangerous  sea. 

The  newspaper  stamp  was  then  fourpence.  The 
advertisement  duty  was  three  shillings,  subsequently 
raised  to  three  shillings  and  sixpence.  The  blank 
paper  was  to  be  stamped  at  Somerset  House,  the 
payment  being  in  cash,  with  a  discount.  It  will  be 
seen  at  once  how  these  taxes  pressed  upon  the 
capital  to  be  devoted  to  such  an  undertaking.  No 
article  of  consumption,  with  the  exception  of  salt, 
was  so  highly  taxed  as  the  Newspaper.  The  circu 
lation  of  a  country  journal  was  not  a  simple  operation 
like  that  of  a  London  journal,  which  was,  and  is,  a 
wholesale  transaction  between  the  newspaper  pro 
prietor  and  the  newsmen.  The  established  custom 
was  this  :  the  country  proprietor  had  agencies  in  the 
larger  towns,  who  had  their  own  retail  customers; 
but  the  greater  number  of  the  papers  were  delivered, 
by  newsmen  specially  employed,  to  the  subscribers, 
whether  in  the  place  of  publication  or  in  scattered 
country  districts.  These  had  quarterly  accounts, 
which  often  grew  into  half-yearly  or  yearly  settle 
ments.  Thus  the  return  of  the  capital  was  very  slow. 

The  demand  for  the  newspaper,  and  the  number 
of  advertisers,  being  thus  narrowed  by  the  high 
price  consequent  upon  the  tax,  the  cost  of  produc 
tion  was  to  be  met  by  a  comparatively  small  number 
of  supporters.  A  cheap  newspaper  was  an  impossi 
bility.  But  there  were  expenses  at  that  time  which 
have  altogether  vanished  under  a  different  state  of 
social  organization.  The  Windsor  paper  was  to  be 
published  on  a  Saturday  evening,  in  time  to  be  des 
patched  by  post  to  the  more  distant  places.  It  was 
5 


96  PASSAGES    OF    A    WORKING    LIFE: 

essential  that  it  should  contain  the  latest  news  from 
the  metropolis.  The  "  London  Gazette "  was  then 
published  on  a  Saturday  afternoon.  How  was  the 
"  Gazette  "  to  be  obtained,  and  also  the  late  editions 
of  the  evening  papers?  For  this  object  the  long- 
established  "Salisbury  Journal"  had  an  express 
direct  from  London  to  that  city.  By  an  arrange 
ment  with  the  London  agent  of  that  journal,  its 
express  was  to  bring  our  despatch  to  Staines,  from 
which  place  we  should  have  a  branch  express  to 
Windsor.  It  would  arrive  about  three  quarters  of 
an  hour  before  our  post  departed.  Then  there  was 
to  ensue  a  scurry  of  editor,  compositors,  pressmen,  to 
complete  enough  papers  to  fill  two  bags,  which  we 
were  allowed  to  send  to  the  receiving  post-offices  at 
Staines  and  Maidenhead  by  the  mail-carts  from  our 
town.  All  this  could  not  be  accomplished  without 
the  most  strenuous  exertions  and  the  most  perfect 
division  of  labour.  It  was  to  be  calculated  that  in 
the  beginning  of  the  undertaking  the  machinery 
would  be  often  out  of  gear. 

This  laborious  and  costly  organization  was  the 
only  method  of  fighting  with  space  and  time  before 
the  days  of  railway  conveyance  and  the  electric 
telegraph.  The  London  daily  papers,  which  fur 
nished  the  staple  of  news,  had  the  same  difficulties, 
though  much  greater  in  degree,  to  contend  against. 
The  more  considerable,  especially  the  "Times,"  had 
not  only  their  special  expresses  from  the  outports, 
but  occasionally  had  a  private  packet-boat  to  pick 
up  news  from  homeward-bound  ships  before  they 
came  into  port.  The  sudden  arrival  of  foreign  intel 
ligence,  and  the  lateness  of  the  sittings  of  Parlia 
ment,  occasioned  the  morning  papers  sometimes  to 


THE    FIKST    EPOCH.  9? 

be  delayed  in  publication  till  almost  noon.  If  thia 
occurred  on  a  Saturday,  the  "  Times/'  or  the  "  Post/' 
or  the  "Chronicle/'  or  the  "British  Press/'  not 
reaching  Windsor  till  six  in  the  evening,  another 
leader  would  then  have  to  be  written.  Sometimes 
the  "Times,"  upon  which  most  reliance  could  be 
placed  for  the  latest  news,  did  not  come  at  all. 
During  the  excitement  of  the  great  war-time  the 
demand  outran  the  supply,  for  it  was  not  till  the  end 
of  1814  that  the  "Times"  was  printed  by  steam 
machinery. 

Our  journal  being  once  safely  at  press,  there  would 
come  the  arrangements  for  its  distribution  through 
the  rural  districts,  in  addition  to  the  small  number 
which  had  been  sent  off  by  post.  The  hamlets  and 
scattered  farm-houses  and  gentlemen's  seats  could 
not  be  reached  by  the  post,  at  a  time  when  not 
one  village  in  twenty  had  a  post-office — when  letters 
and  newspapers  remained  with  the  postmaster  of  the 
market-town  till  they  were  called  for  by  the  inhabi 
tants  of  the  surrounding  district.  Many  a  populous 
parish  was  thus  left  to  chance  for  the  receipt  of  its 
private  or  its  public  intelligence.  Our  new  paper 
would  have  to  meet  this  difficulty  by  our  own  express- 
carts,  which  were  to  travel  long  distances,  and  by 
pedestrians,  who  would  have  many  a  weary  mile  to 
trudge  over  unfrequented  roads.  These  deliverers 
would  seldom  receive  payment  from  the  subscribers. 
The  debts  would  accumulate,  requiring  to  be  col 
lected  at-  periodical  visits.  Remittances  in  many 
cases  could  not  easily  be  made  ;  in  some  cases  they 
would  be  impossible,  for  the  system  of  postal  money- 
orders  was  a  quarter  of  a  century  later. 

The  price  of  a  country  newspaper  was,  in  almost. 


98  PASSAGES   OF    A   WORKING    LIFE  I 

every  case,  sevenpence.  The  wages  of  mechanical 
labour  were  high,  keeping  pace  with  the  price  of 
wheat,  which  in  1812  was  150s.  a  quarter  Paper  was 
extremely  dear,  the  duty  being  threepence  a  pound, 
and  the  cheapening  by  the  paper  machine,  now  so 
efficient,  being  then  one  of  the  visions  of  the  pro 
jector.  In  the  absence,  besides,  of  all  the  modern 
appliances  of  civilization  such  as  I  have  recited — 
which  have  so  lessened  the  cost  of  a  provincial 
journal,  and  have  increased  the  demand  in  a  far 
greater  ratio  than  the  doubling  of  the  population — 
the  number  of  country  newspapers  was  comparatively 
small.  Throughout  England  there  were  less  than  a 
hundred.  There  were  not  a  great  many  of  them 
which  ventured  upon  original  writing ;  but  the 
leading  article  had  become  a  feature  with  those  of 
the  higher  class,  such  as  the  "  Leeds  Mercury,"  after 
the  beginning  of  the  century.  To  express  strong 
opinions  upon  gross  abuses  was,  however,  a  service  of 
danger  which  most  editors  avoided  in  the  days  of  ex 
officio  informations. 

It  was  a  perilous  time  for  the  newspaper  press, 
for  the  people  were  discontented,  and  the  authorities 
were  sensitive.  They  were  especially  sensitive  in 
this  war-time  as  to  any  strictures  which  were  sup 
posed  to  have  a  tendency  to  weaken  the  allegiance 
of  the  army,  or  render  soldiers  less  satisfied  under 
the  severe  discipline  by  which  alone  obedience  was 
held  to  be  capable  of  enforcement.  Military  flogging 
was  one  of  the  forbidden  subjects  for  editorial  com 
ment.  In  the  year  181 2,  William  Cobbett  was  in 
Newgate,  having  been  sentenced  in  1810  to  two  years' 
imprisonment  and  a  fine  of  a  thousand  pounds  for  a 
virulent  effusion  upon  a  punishment  which  had  taken 


THE   FIRST    EPOCH.  99 

place  in  the  local  militia  of  Ely.  In  the  "  Stamford 
News,"  a  paper  most  ably  conducted  by  Mr.  John 
Scott  (afterwards  editor  of  the  "  Champion "),  an 
article  appeared  at  the  same  period,  in  which  flogging 
was  described  as  "  a  species  of  torture  at  least  as 
exquisite  as  any  that  was  ever  devised  by  the  infer 
nal  ingenuity  of  the  Inquisition."  This  article  was 
copied  into  the  "  Examiner,"  and  Sir  Vicary  Gibbs, 
the  Attorney-General,  filed  informations  against  both 
papers.  The  trial  of  John  and  Leigh  Hunt  came  on 
the  first,  before  Lord  Ellenborough,  who  laboured 
hard  for  a  conviction.  They  were  defended  by  Mr. 
Brougham,  and  the  Middlesex  jury  acquitted  them. 
The  subsequent  trial  of  Mr.  Drakard,  the  proprietor 
of  the  "  Stamford  News,"  resulted  in  his  conviction, 
although  the  same  advocate  defended  him.  He  was 
sentenced  to  eighteen  months'  imprisonment.  Such 
a  notable  example  of  the  uncertainty  of  trial  by  jury 
in  matters  of  political  libel  could  give  a  public  writer 
no  great  confidence  that  incautious  words,  without 
evil  intentions,  might  not  be  visited  with  punishment 
such  as  is  earned  by  atrocious  crimes.  There  was 
another  subject  upon  which  the  law-officers  of  the 
Crown  were  equally  determined  to  war  against 
public  opinion.  In  proportion  as  the  Prince  Regent 
was  becoming  unpopular,  the  Attorney-General  re 
sented  any  reflections  upon  his  coxcombry  and  his 
frivolous  tastes.  Moore  ran  great  risks  when  he 
dubbed  the  Prince  "  the  Maecenas  of  Tailors."  But 
it  was  "  most  tolerable  and  not  to  be  endured "  by 
the  Dogberries  who  guarded  the  honour  of  Carlton 
House,  when  a  newspaper  writer,  who  was  not  a  pet 
of  fashion,  dared  to  say  of  his  Royal  Highness — in 
ridicule  of  a  fulsome  article  in  the  "  Morning  Post "  in 


100  PASSAGES   OF   A   WOKKING   LIFE! 

which  he  was  called  "  an  Adonis  in  loveliness  " — that 
this  Adonis  was  "  a  corpulent  gentleman  of  fifty." 
The  ex-ojficio  information  against  John  and  Leigh 
Hunt,  for  a  libel  in  the  "  Examiner  "  of  March  24th, 
1812,  resulted  in  a  fine  of  a  thousand  pounds  and 
the  imprisonment  of  each  for  two  years  in  separate 
prisons.  Mr.  Brougham  had  again  defended  the 
brothers,  and  had  the  satisfaction  to  be  told  by  Lord 
Ellenborough  that  he  had  imbibed  the  spirit  of  his 
client,  and  seemed  to  have  inoculated  himself  with 
all  the  poison  and  mischief  which  this  libel  was 
calculated  to  effect.  It  was  undoubtedly  strong 
language  for  the  "Examiner"  to  designate  the 
Prince  as  "  a  violator  of  his  word,  a  libertine  over 
head  and  ears  in  debt  and  disgrace,  a  despiser  of 
domestic  ties,  the  companion  of  gamblers  and  demi 
reps,  a  man  who  has  just  closed  half  a  century 
without  one  single  claim  on  the  gratitude  of  his 
country  or  the  respect  of  posterity."  Posterity  has 
not  given  such  an  answer  as  would  put  to  shame  this 
daring  appeal  to  its  judgment.  But  the  dispassionate 
lookers-on  of  that  period  could  not  think  it  seemly 
that  such  harsh  truths  should  be  told  of  him  who 
stood  in  the  place  of  a  king — who,  as  chief  magis 
trate,  ought  to  claim  from  the  people  all  respect  and 
reverence. 

But  it  was  not  only  the  dread  of  indictment  for  poli 
tical  libel  that  hung  over  the  head  of  the  newspaper 
proprietor  in  1812.  Any  statement  of  fact,  or  any 
comment  upon  occurrences  that  might  be  supposed 
to  affect  private  character,  were  constantly  made 
the  subject  of  actions,  got  up  by  rapacious  attorneys, 
speculating  upon  that  love  of  litigation  which  was 
then  especially  characteristic  of  the  English.  It  was 


THE   FIRST   EPOCH.  101 

not  till  thirty  years  after  1812  that  Lord  Campbell's 
Act  gave  to  the  journalist  the  power  to  plead,  in  any 
action  for  libel,  "  that  such  libel  was  inserted  in  such 
newspaper  without  actual  malice,  and  without  gross 
negligence  ;  and  that  before  the  commencement  of 
the  action,  or  at  the  earliest  opportunity  afterwards, 
he  inserted  in  such  newspaper  a  full  apology  for  such 
libel."  Imagine,  at  the  present  day,  the  Lord  Chief 
Justice  of  the  Court  of  Queen's  Bench  trying  an 
action  for  libel, — with  two  leaders,  such  as  Mr.  Den- 
man  for  the  prosecution,  and  Mr.  Scarlett  for  the 
defence, — the  alleged  libel  being  the  report  in  a 
country  newspaper  of  a  flagrant  case  of  cruelty 
which  was  a  notorious  subject  of  local  indignation. 
The  libel  consisted  in  terming  that  "a  brutal  assault," 
upon  which  the  assailants  were  held  to  bail.  Imagine 
that  the  persons  whose  characters  were  thus  defamed 
were  a  pig-keeper  and  his  wife,  who  let  lodgings  to 
poor  people ;  and  having  a  dispute  with  a  family  of 
which  the  mother  had  only  been  confined  a  week, 
threatened  to  pull  the  bed  from  under  her,  and  turn 
her  into  the  street.  Imagine  a  London  jury  finding 
a  verdict  for  the  plaintiff,  with  501.  damages.  Imagine 
a  second  action  for  the  same  libel  being  brought  by 
the  wife.  Imagine  ten  several  actions  'against  ten 
London  papers,  for  reporting  the  trial  in  the  King's 
Bench  with  a  few  words  of  just  comment  upon  the 
scandal  of  such  litigation,  when  there  was  no  "private 
malice "  or  "  gross  negligence."  Imagine  a  hungry 
attorney,  prowling  for  prey,  at  the  bottom  of  all  these 
actions,  who  hao],  no  object  to  attain  but  the  heavy 
costs  which  he  pocketed.  These  verdicts  cost  me 
500£.  in  1825.  Is  not  the  newspaper  press  in  a 
better  condition  than  it  was  in,  forty  years  ago  ? 


102  PASSAGES   OF   A  WORKING   LIFE: 

The  perils  of  the  Libel  Law  did  not  much  affect 
my  confident  belief  in  1812  that  I  could  navigate  my 
little  bark  in  safety.  But.  I  did  feel,  perhaps  too 
acutely,  the  difficulties  of  my  position  as  a  journalist 
under  the  shadow  of  the  Castle  at  Windsor.  It  was 
a  time  in  which  the  patriotism  which  had  upheld  the 
nation  through  the  fierce  struggle  of  twenty  years 
required,  at  this  great  crisis  of  our  history,  when  the 
fate  of  England  was  trembling  in  the  balance,  the 
prop  of  a  sincere  and  spontaneous  loyalty.  I  deeply 
felt,  as  one  about  to  become  a  public  writer,  that 
upon  the  head  of  the  Government  I  could  only 
bestow 

"  month-honour,  breath 
Which  the  poor  heart  would  fuin  deny  but  dare  not." 

I  look  back  upon  the  public  feeling  of  the  first 
twenty  years  of  my  working  life,  and  compare  it 
with  the  quarter  of  a  century  which  was  blessed  with 
a  female  Sovereign.  Oh,  could  the  generation  which, 
during  the  reign  of  Victoria,  has  entered  upon  the 
duties  of  mature  age,  know  the  full  value  of  their 
privilege  in  being  able  to  cherish  the  loyalty  of  the 
subject,  not  as  an  abstract  principle,  but  as  a  holy 
sentiment,  often  rising  into  the  warmest  devotion, 
they  would  pity  the  youth  of  a  less  happy  time,  who 
had  a  struggle  to  maintain  even  his  love  of  country 
amidst  the  "  curses  not  loud  but  deep "  which  at 
tended  its  sensual  and  frivolous  ruler !  We  should 
have  been  perhaps  plunged  into  a  profounder  abyss 
of  royal  degradation,  had  not  the  long-established 
habit  of  decency  still  kept  the  public  Court  circle 
free  from  ladies  whose  "  misfortune "  (as  Lord 
Ellenborough  termed  the  fashionable  sin  upon  the 


THE   FIEST   EPOCH.  103 

trial  of  the  Hunts)  met  with  no  pity  in  the  eyes  of 
the  rigid  Queen  Charlotte. 

The  political  atmosphere  was  not  very  bright  on 
the  1st  of  August,  1812,  when  the  Windsor  news 
paper  struggled  into  life.  The  29th  of  July  was  a 
day  of  gloom,  for  the  intelligence  arrived  that  the 
United  States  of  America  had  declared  war  against 
Great  Britain.  Wellington  had  advanced  into  Spain 
in  June.  His  position  was  a  very  difficult  one.  The 
English  army  and  the  French  army  were  on  opposite 
banks  of  the  Douro  in  the  early  part  of  July.  Mar- 
mont  was  expecting  a  large  accession  of  strength  in 
the  junction  of  King  Joseph's  army  from  Madrid. 
Wellington  was  disappointed  of  the  arrival  of  rein 
forcements  under  Lord  William  Bentinck.  There 
was  a  wide-spread  conviction  that  the  Government  at 
home  was  feebly  supporting  the  one  great  captain 
whose  genius  appeared  likely  to  retrieve  the  disasters 
of  a  long  series  of  "  warriors  "  not  "  for  the  working- 
day."  Parliament  was  prorogued  on  the  29th  of  July. 
The  speech  of  the  Prince  Regent  was  in  no  degree 
a  jubilant  prophecy  of  a  glorious  future.  It  con 
sisted  of  little  more  than  tamely  expressed  sentiments. 

It  was  Sunday  night  the  16th  of  August.  The 
evening  promenade  in  the  Long  Walk,  which  had 
succeeded  to  the  regal  promenade  on  the  Terrace, 
had  been  interrupted  by  the  sudden  withdrawal  of 
the  band  of  the  29th  Regiment,  who  were  summoned 
to  their  barracks.  The  sun  had  gone  down  behind 
the  hills  of  the  forest,  as  I  sat  lonely  in  a  cottage 
belonging  to  my  father,  which  then  stood  apart  from 
any  other  houses,  fronting  the  Long  Walk.  I  was 
meditating  upon  the  unofficial  news,  which  had 


104  PASSAGES    OF  A  WOKKING    LITE: 

arrived  on  the  Saturday  night,  of  a  victory  in  Spain 
— shaping  my  thoughts  into  exulting  verse  as  the 
death-song  of  a  Guerilla  who  lay  bleeding  on  that 
battle-field.  Suddenly,  from  the  not  distant  bar 
racks,  rose  the  burst  of  "  God  save  the  King,"  and 
the  cheers  of  a  multitude.  I  rushed  to  the  town. 
The  29th  Regiment  was  marching  out  of  Park  Street 
along  the  Frogmore  Road  to  the  inspiriting  tune 
which  revolutionary  Frenchmen  called  "  c,a  ira,"  but 
which  loyal  Englishmen  translated  into  "  The  Down 
fall  of  Paris."  The  Extraordinary  Gazette,  containing 
Wellington's  despatches  relating  to  the  great  victory 
of  Salamanca,  had  been  published  on  that  Sunday 
morning,  and  had  arrived  at  Windsor,  to  demand 
from  the  enthusiasm  of  the  moment  this  hasty  night- 
march.  I  followed  the  measured  tramp  of  the  sol 
diery,  in  common  with  the  great  mass  of  our  popu 
lation,  unknowing  what  was  to  be  done,  and  yet 
filled  with  the  passionate  desire  of  the  hundreds 
around  me  to  give  expression  to  the  belief  that  the 
tide  had  turned — that  England  might  shout  for  a 
mighty  victory  by  land,  as  she  had  shouted  for  the 
Nile  and  for  Trafalgar.  The  joyous  troops  marched 
into  a  field  adjoining  Frogmore  Gardens,  and  there, 
formed  into  line,  fired  three  volleys,  and  gave  three 
cheers.  Such  was  the  British  war-cry  which  they 
had  given  three  years  before,  when  they  met  the 
French  at  Talavera,  and  contributed  their  part  to  the 
great  battle  which,  says  the  strategist  Jomini,  "  re 
covered  the  glory  of  the  successors  of  Maiiborough, 
which  for  a  century  had  declined,  and  showed  that 
the  English  infantry  could  contend  with  the  best  in 
Europe."  If  Talavera  was  the  hardest-fought  battle 
of  modern  times,  as  Sir  Arthur  Wellesley  described 


THE    FIEST    EPOCH.  105 

it,  Salamanca  was  the  most  fruitful  in  its  results. 
This  victory  of  Wellington  over  Marmont  gave  con 
fidence  to  Russia,  and  awakened  the  hopes  of  Germany 
that  a  new  era  was  approaching.  My  "  Dying  Gue 
rilla  "  was  not  a  false  prophet  when  he  exclaimed — 

"  I  see  embattled  Europe's  wrath  sublime 
Rush  to  the  field  and  blacken,  all  the  clime  ; 
Insulted  nations  spurn  their  blood-stain'd  lord, 
And  Vengeance  draw  the  soul-redeeming  sword."  * 

The  first  duty  of  a  Provincial  Journalist  is  to  pre 
sent  always  a  faithful,  and  if  possible  a  full,  account 
of  the  occurrences  of  his  district.  But  how  little 
of  all  this  is  worth  a  more  permanent  record  !  I  was 
unfortunate  in  having  few  noteable  things  to  relate 
beyond  the  ordinary  routine  of  the  life  of  the  Castle, 
and  the  monotonous  proceedings  of  vestries  and 
borough  magistrates.  Quarter-Sessions  offered  little 
of  abiding  interest.  Assizes  sometimes  furnished 
something  characteristic  of  the  age,  which  looked 
like  materials  for  the  Annual  Chronicler.  But  the 
most  exciting  of  such  matters  are  apt  to  become  as 
motes  in  the  historical  sunbeam.  I  glance  over  my 
old  newspapers,  and  almost  wonder  how  many  local 
trifles  came  to  be  printed. 

The  staple  of  my  newspaper  was  Politics.  I  am 
not  about  to  offer  any  narrative  of  the  great  events 
of  the  greatest  era  of  modern  history,  but  I  cannot 
wholly  pass  them  over.  When  I  look  back  upon  the 
autumn  and  winter  of  1812,  and  call  to  mind  the 
ever-varied  excitement  attending  the  wars  in  Spain, 
in  Russia,  in  America,  I  feel  that  such  a  concentration 
of  points  of  immense  public  interest  scarcely  ever 

*  Windsor  Express,  August  22,  1812. 


106  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING    LIFE: 

before  demanded  the  vigilant  and  faithful  attention 
of  the  journalist.  The  victory  of  Salamanca  was  fol 
lowed  by  the  entrance  of  Wellington  into  Madrid, 
and  then  came  the  unwelcome  intelligence  of  the 
raising  of  the  siege  of  Burgos,  and  the  retreat  of  the 
British  army.  I  was  the  echo  of  the  loud  voice  of 
public  complaint,  that  in  the  barracks  and  arsenals 
of  Great  Britain  should  have  slumbered  that  force 
which,  two  months  before,  would  have  put  the  Penin 
sular  war  beyond  the  reverses  of  fortune.  I  denounced 
the  policy  which  still  regarded  the  contest  as  a  war 
of  experiment — the  policy  of  a  weak  government, 
ready  again  for  the  course  of  repairing  errors  by  an 
expenditure  of  means  which  far  outran  the  limits  of 
their  original  necessity.  "  Demosthenes,"  I  said, 
"  reproached  the  Athenians  that  they  were  like  rustics 
in  a  fencing-school,  who,  after  a  blow,  guard  the  part 
that  was  hit,  and  not  before."  Yet  the  gloom  pro 
duced  by  the  retreat  to  Portugal,  after  the  triumph 
of  Salamanca,  was  scarcely  so  intense,  because  it  was 
unmixed  with  a  feeling  of  national  disgrace,  as  when 
in  that  autumn  three  British  ships-,  in  three  distinct 
engagements,  struck  the  once  invincible  flag  to  the 
American  stars  and  stripes.  In  October  it  was  known 
that  the  French,  were  in  Moscow,  and  that  the  Em 
peror  was  lodged  in  the  Kremlin.  The  fluctuating 
fortunes  of  those  times  might  well  teach  the  public 
writer  the  great  duty  contained  in  the  sermon  of  six 
words — "in  adversity  hope,  in  prosperity  consider." 
Even  whilst  the  French,  after  a  perilous  occupation 
of  the  great  city,  marched  forth  from  the  burning 
ruins  of  Moscow,  there  was  hope,  but  not  certainty, 
that  the  European  struggle  was  coming  to  an  end. 
But  on  Christmas  Day,  the  French  papers,  announcing 


THE   FIKST   EPOCH.  107 

the  return  of  Bonaparte  to  Paris,  and  containing  the 
famous  twenty-ninth  bulletin  which  could  not  con 
ceal  the  almost  total  annihilation  of  the  French  army, 
rendered  that  joyous  festival  one  of  unusual  solem 
nity. 

The  spring  of  1813  brought  with  it  a  lull  in  the 
hurricane  of  foreign  politics.  Windsor  was  excited 
by  a  grand  royal  funeral — that  of  the  Duchess  of 
Brunswick,  on  the  31st  of  March.  But  there  was  a 
stronger  excitement  in  some  mysterious  circumstances 
which  followed  that  funeral  It  was  known  that, 
previous  to  the  interment,  while  workmen  were 
employed  in  making  a  subterraneous  passage  from 
the  middle  of  the  choir  of  St.  George's  Chapel  to  the 
new  Royal  Mausoleum  under  the  building  called 
Wolsey's  Tomb-House,  they  had  accidentally  broken 
away  a  part  of  the  vault  of  Henry  the  Eighth,  but 
which  was  not  then  opened.  On  the  morning  after 
the  funeral  the  Prince  Regent  was  seen  to  enter  the 
Chapel,  attended  by  Sir  Henry  Halford.  A  master- 
mason  and  a  master-plumber  had  been  previously 
sent  for,  who  were  to  do  some  work  with  their  own 
hands  which  could  not  be  entrusted  to  common 
mechanics,  and  about  which  they  were  to  preserve 
the  most  profound  secresy.  The  Chapel  was  again 
closed  ;  the  Prince  Regent  returned  to  the  Castle ; 
the  mason  and  plumber,  burdened  with  some  tremen 
dous  mystery,  were  afraid  to  speak  to  their  curious 
neighbours ;  and  yet  the  mystery  did  ooze  out. 
Solemn  whisperings  went  from  the  Castle  to  the 
town  ;  from  the  town  to  the  villages ;  and  wild 
rumours  soon  found  their  wav  to  London.  The  most 


108  PASSAGES   OF   A  WORKING   LIFE: 

various  and  contradictory  narratives  now  had  then- 
due  place  in  the  daily  papers.  For  myself,  I  deemed 
it  prudent  to  remain  silent,  rather  than  become  a 
propagator  of  erroneous  details  and  absurd  fictions. 
I  was  enabled  at  last  to  present  an  authentic  account 
of  the  investigations  which  took  place  in  the  vault  of 
Henry  the  Eighth.  This  differed  very  slightly  from 
the  narrative  published  a  fortnight  afterwards  by  Sir 
Henry  Halford.  ,The  intimation  of  Clarendon,  that 
after  the  Restoration  the  body  of  Charles  the  First 
could  not  be  found  after  the  most  diligent  search, 
was  disproved  by  the  discovery  of  the  1st  of  April, 
1813.  When  the  plumber  had  cut  .open  the  upper 
part  of  the  leaden  coffin,  and  the  cerecloth  in  which 
the  body  had  been  wrapped  was  removed,  there  was 
the  long  oval  face  with  the  pointed  beard,  which 
reminded  those  present  of  the  portraits  of  Vandyke. 
The  head  was  loose,  although  it  had  been  carefully 
adjusted  to  the  shoulders,  and  it  was  taken  up  with 
out  difficulty,  and  held  to  view.  The  narrative  of 
the  court  physician  has  no  false  delicacy  in  attempting 
to  conceal  the  results  of  this  remarkable  examination. 
My  business  and  my  inclination  often  led  me  now 
to  the  capital.  There  I  was  enabled  to  gather  some 
flavour  for  my  insipid  dish  of  Windsor  ideas,  in  the 
full  flow  of  London  talk.  There  I  got  away  from  the 
Court  atmosphere,  and  the  College  atmosphere,  and 
the  Corporation  atmosphere,  to  think  boldly  and 
speak  freely  with  friends  who  were  fighting  their 
way  amidst  a  crowd  of  aspirants  in  Law,  in  Litera 
ture,  and  in  the  Arts.  Politics,  however,  were  the 
absorbing  topics  of  every  society.  The  people  of 
Germany  had  risen  as  one  man  to  do  battle  against 
the  conqueror,  humbled  but  not  overthrown,  at  whose 


THE   FIKST   EPOCH.  109 

feet  the  sovereigns  had  crouched.  The  adherents  of 
the  Bourbons  in  London  were  full  of  revived  and 
long-suspended  energies.  I  was  introduced  to  one 
who  had  played  an  important  part  before  the  meeting 
of  the  States-General — the  Marquis  of  Chambonas. 
I  passed  some  pleasant  and  instructive  evenings  with 
the  former  lord  of  a  great  chateau  near  Montpelier, 
in — the  Fleet  Prison.  Here,  for  some  mysterious 
reason,  he  had  lived,  securely  and  contentedly,  with 
his  niece,  for  some  years  ;  never  going  beyond  the 
walls,  untouched  by  the  squalid  misery  of  the  place, 
having  no  companionship  with  other  prisoners,  but 
holding  audience  in  a  large  and  well-furnished  apart 
ment,  where  men  of  note,  even  such  men  as  George 
Canning,  would  come  to  visit  him.  His  ostensible 
occupation  was  that  of  a  teacher  of  the  French  lan 
guage.  On  certain  nights  of  the  week  he  held  a 
soiree,  at  which  he  would  read  a  French  author, 
interspersing  a  running  commentary  of  spirited  and 
tasteful  criticism.  I  regretted  that  before  his  return 
to  France  at  the  peace  of  1814,  I  had  not  availed 
myself  of  his  proposition  that  I  should  correspond 
with  him  for  my  improvement  in  a  French  style. 
There  was  something  more  than  met  the  eye  in  that 
proposal.  I  came  to  learn  that  the  old  Marquis  had 
been  so  long  secluded  from  the  outer  world,  that  he 
might  be  a  safe  and  unsuspected  recipient  of  the 
secrets  of  the  Royalists  on  the  other  side  of  the 
channel.  It  was  not  to  obtain  a  correct  accent,  to 
hear  Racine  and  Moliere  read  with  unaccustomed 
elegance,  that  writers  and  statesmen  went  to  that 
second  floor  of  the  Fleet  Prison,  where  the  Marquis 
sat  through  all  the  changes  of  seasons,  not  deficient 
in  any  of  the  means  of  procuring  abundant  comforts 
and  luxuries. 


CHAPTER  III. 

FIND  from  old  letters  that  at  the  end 
of  1813  I  occupied  my  leisure  in  writing 
a  play,  which  was  intended  to  have  some 
parallel  with  the  uprising  of  the  German 
population.  My 'subject  was  the  deliverance  of  the 
German  nation  from  the  Roman  yoke  by  Arminius. 
It  is  one  of  the  usual  mistakes  of  young  writers  to 
believe  that  some  temporary  outburst  of  popular 
enthusiasm  would  ensure  success  to  a  poem,  and 
especially  to  a  drama,  which,  in  the  very  nature  of 
its  subject,  must  be  little  more  than  a  vehicle  for 
rhetorical  display.  This  is  easier  than  to  deal  with 
the  great  elements  of  terror  and  pity,  which  must 
largely  enter  into  the  composition  of  a  tragedy  as  a 
real  work  of  art.  My  play  was  sent  to  Drury  Lane, 
then  managed  by  a  Committee,  of  which  Mr.  Whit- 
bread  was  a  leading  member.  My  attempt  was 
treated  with  all  respect ;  it  had  a  fair  consideration, 
and  its  rejection  was  accompanied  with  a  note  suffi 
ciently  complimentary  : — "  There  is  much  spirited 
and  easy  writing  in  this  tragedy.  Its  greatest  fault 
appears  to  be  a  want  of  incident  and  contrivance  ;  it 
is  too  declamatory  ;  and  I  apprehend  the  want  of 
interest  and  situation  would  not  be  compensated  by 
the  neatness  arid  fire  of  the  dialogue."  I  had  sense 
enough  to  know  that  the  objections  thus  stated  were 
perfectly  just ;  but  I  had  not  then  learnt  the  lesson 


THE   FIRST   EPOCH.  Ill 

which  a  critical  acquaintance  with  Shakspere,  and 
with  other  great  dramatists,  afterwards  impressed 
upon  me, — that  a  play  unfit  for  the  stage  is  incapable 
of  imparting  true  poetical  pleasure  in  the  closet.  In 
such  a  drama  the  unity  of  object  is  wanting.  The 
action  halts.  The  descriptive  passages  are  elaborated 
till  the  realities  of  character  vanish.  I  printed  my 
"  Arminius. "  The  book  had  some  success,  and 
caused  me  to  be  enrolled  amongst  the  poets  of 
England  in  a  Catalogue  of  Living  Authors,  and  more 
permanently  in  Watt's  "  Bibliotheca  Britannica." 
But  what  is  the  value  of  such  fame  ?  One  living 
rival  of  Magliabecchi, — whose  knowledge  of  books  is 
as  universal  as  profound,  whilst,  unlike  Magliabecchi, 
he  is  able  profitably  to  use  his  knowledge, — tells  me 
that  there  is  not  a  copy  of  my  play  in  the  British 
Museum.  My  vanity  is  soothed  a  little  by  re 
membering  that  one  of  the  scenes  is  to  be  found  in 
a  school-book  of  elocution,-side  by  side  with  extracts 
from  Addison's  "  Cato,"  and  Brooke's  "  Gustavus 
Vasa."  It  is  not  a  great  fame. 

The  third  week  of  the  new  year  witnessed  that 
most  unusual  occurrence — the  stoppage  of  communi 
cation  on  some  of  the  most  frequented  roads  of 
England  and  Scotland.  There  never  had  been  such 
a  fall  of  snow  in  the  memory  of  man,  and  there  has 
certainly  been  nothing  like  it  since.  Had  railways 
been  in  existence,  the  obstacles  to  all  travelling  and 
all  commercial  transit  would  have  been  precisely  the 
same.  It  is  under  such  unusual  circumstances  of 
interruption  to  the  business  of  a  busy  people  that  we 
best  understand  the  value  of  roads,  and  of  all  the  con 
current  means  of  communication  which  have  grown 
up  during  a  long  period  of  civilized  society.  I  well 


112  PASSAGES  OF   A  WORKING   LIFE: 

remember  the  consternation  and  difficulty,  when,  on 
a  certain  Thursday,  our  morning  coaches  set  out  for 
London  and  were  obliged  to  return  ;  when  we  learnt 
that  the  only  mails  which  had  reached  the  General 
Post  Office  on  the  Friday  were  three  from  Brighton, 
Rye,  and  Portsmouth  ;  when  we  knew,  from  the  report 
of  horsemen  and  pedestrians,  who  had  contrived  to 
struggle  up  from  Bath,  that  the  West  of  England 
was  completely  impassable  for  carriages  ;  that  the 
shops  in  Exeter  were  shut  up,  and  the  doors  arid 
windows  of  private  houses  barricaded,  by  the  drifts  of 
snow.  At  Oxford  no  letters  or  papers  arrived  for 
four  days,  and  there  was  a  blockade  far  more  effectual 
than  when  Cromwell's  army  was  hemming  it  around. 
I  made  my  way  on  horseback  to  the  Bath  road,  and 
proceeded  well  enough  from  Slough  to  a  mile  or  so 
beyond  Salthill,  through  a  lane  cut  through  the  snow, 
which  rose  on  either  side  like  the  outer  walls  of  a 
medieval  castle.  This  narrow  passage  had  been 
accomplished  by  the  exertions  of  many  labourers, 
and  the  same  process  was  going  forward  throughout 
the  northern  and  western  roads.  On  the  21st  of 
January  a  notice  was  issued  from  the  General  Post 
Office  to  all  post  masters,  directing  them  to  apply  to  the 
overseers  of  parishes  to  employ  all  the  means  in  their 
power  to  get  the  country  cleared  for  the  passage  of 
the  mails.  A  more  stringent  command  was  issued 
from  the  Home  Office  to  the  Lords-Lieutenants  of 
counties,  for  restoring  the  accustomed  means  of  com 
munication  between  London  and  the  interior.  The 
fall  of  snow  was  succeeded  by  an  intense  frost. 
Between  Blackfriars  Bridge  and  London  Bridge 
there  was  a  sort  of  fair  on  the  ice,  which  has  been 
best  preserved  from  oblivion  in  one  of  the  designs 


THE   FIRST   EPOCH.  113 

of    George    Cruikshank,    in    Hone's    "  Every  Day 
Book." 

The  milder  days  of  February  gave  us  back  again 
the  ordinary  means  of  communication  from  Cornwall 
to  Lanarkshire.  From  out  of  a  "  House  of  Glass " 
Rumour  now  carne  flying  all  abroad,  and  the  land 
was  alive  with  the  anticipation  of  great  events.  The 
Allies  marched  on  from  the  Rhine.  Then  came  the 
fruitless  struggle  which  manifested  the  military 
genius  of  Napoleon  as  much  as  any  one  of  his  great 
victories.  From  one  point  to  another  he  rushed  to 
meet  his  enemies  wherever  they  appeared;  some 
times  victorious,  sometimes  defeated,  but  always 
contriving  to  make  the  great  issue  still  doubtful. 
Aberdeen  the  peaceful  was  for  making  terms  with 
him  ;  other  statesmen,  English  and  foreign,  were 
for  pushing  him  to  extremities.  The  risings  of 
Bordeaux,  the  second  city  of  the  Empire,  in  favour 
of  the  Bourbons,  appeared  to  indicate  that  the 
popular  feeling  of  France  was  changing,  as  regarded 
him  who  had  done  everything  for  its  glory  and 
nothing  for  its  happiness.  The  negociations  for 
peace  were  broken  off.  Whilst  Wellington  was 
fighting  his  final  battle  with  Soult  on  the  10th 
of  April,  Paris  had  capitulated,  and  the  Emperor 
of  Russia  and  the  King  of  Prussia  had  entered 
the  capital  which  had  appropriated  the  spoils  of  a 
hundred  cities.  On  the  4th  of  April,  Napoleon  had 
abdicated,  and  soon  after  was  on  his  road  to  Elba. 
For  three  nights  London  was  in  a  tumult  of  exulta 
tion,  amidst  illuminations  of  unprecedented  bril 
liancy.  On  the  3rd  of  May,  Louis  the  Eighteenth 
was  in  the  Tuileries.  In  England  the  beauty  of  the 
spring  weather  was  such  as  had  scarcely  ever  been 


114  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE: 

remembered.  Poets  seized  upon  it  as  an  omen  of 
future  happiness.  Leigh  Hunt — who  had  endured 
enough  to  render  him  cold  to  a  cause  which  was  that 
of  the  ruling  powers  at  home  and  of  royalty  in 
general — looked  at  this  crisis  as  somewhat  like  a 
final  triumph  over  war  and  oppression,  and  in  his 
new-born  zeal  wrote  a  Mask,  "  The  Descent  of 
Liberty,"  to  which  the  glories  of  the  spring  lent  their 
most  poetical  associations.  We  had  our  especial  turn 
of  patriotic  excitement  at  Windsor.  The  great  festi 
vities  in  London  when  the  Emperor  of  Russia  and 
the  King  of  Prussia  arrived ;  when  they  were  in 
vested  with  the  Order  of  the  Garter  at  Carlton 
House  ;  when  the  Prince  Regent  and  the  two  sove 
reigns  dined  with  the  Corporation  of  London  at  the 
Mansion  House  ; — these  were  of  little  importance  to 
us  compared  with  that  of  the  visit  to  Windsor  of  the 
Emperor  of  Russia  with  his  famous  Platoff,  and  of  the 
King  of  Prussia  with  his  no  less  famous  Bliicher. 
In  the  "Poetical  Remains "  of  William  Sidney 
Walker,  with  whom  I  was  associated  in  after  life, 
there  is  a  letter  from  him  when  a  boy  at  Eton, 
dated  the  6th  of  July,  1814,  in  which  he  says,  "  I 
have  shaken  hands  with  the  King  of  Prussia  and 
Platoff,  and  have  touched  the  flap  of  Blucher's  coat. 
I  shall  have  it  engraven  on  my  tombstone."  I  cannot 
desire  so  solemn  a  record,  that,  having  arrived  early 
at  the  Ascot  Race-ground,  I  saw  the  King  of  Prussia 
—who  had  ridden  thither  before  the  rest  of  the 
royal  party — buying  a  penny  roll  and  a  slice  of  cheese 
at  one  of  the  common  booths,  and  marching  up  and 
down,  cutting  his  humble  luncheon  with  a  pocket- 
knife  which  I  supposed  he  had  carried  through  many 
a  troublous  campaign. 


THE  FIRST  EPOCH.  115 

Of  course  1  took  a  more  exalted  view  of  the  historical 
grandeur  of  this  season  of  rejoicing  and  felicitation 
when  the  Duke  of  Wellington  was  to  arrive  at 
Windsor,  for  the  purpose  of  reviewing  his  regiment 
of  the  Horse  Guards  Blue,  and  I  was  requested  by 
the  Corporation  to  write  an  Address  to  be  presented 
to  his  Grace  by  the  Town  Clerk.  I  very  much  fear 
that  its  stilted  paragraphs  were  a  humble  imitation 
of  that  Address  of  the  Speaker  of  the  House  of  Com 
mons,  when  he  said,  "This  nation  well  knows  that  it 
is  largely  your  debtor."  The  Duke,  on  the  6th  of 
August,  received  the  Corporation  in  the  hall  of  the 
Castle  Inn,  somewhat  weary,  I  suppose,  of  the 
manner  in  which,  as  he  said,  "  he  had  been  received 
in  different  parts  of  the  kingdom."  I  crept  into  that 
narrow  hall,  between  the  red  gowns  and  the  blue 
gowns,  some  of  whom  stood  in  the  street ;  and  I  was 
not  very  proud  of  my  fine  paragraphs  when  I  looked 
upon  that  impassive  face,  and  thinking  of  what 
welded  iron  that  conqueror  of  Bonaparte  was  made, 
fancied  how  little  the  men  of  action  appreciated  the 
sounding  periods  of  the  men  of  words.  I  did  not 
then  know  with  what  success  this  great  soldier  would 
vindicate  his  own  claim  to  be  ranked  amongst  the 
best  writers. 

My  newspaper  of  the  3rd  of  December  contained  a 
paragraph  which  I  had  copied  from  "  The  Times  "  of 
November  the  29th,  1814,  not  interesting,  perhaps, 
to  the  majority  of  my  provincial  readers,  but  which 
strongly  excited  my  wonder  and  curiosity,  and  led 
me  into  obscure  speculations  of  what  might  be  the 
probable  consequences  of  what  "The  Times"  described 
as  "  the  greatest  improvement  connected  with  print- 


116  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE: 

ing  since  the  discovery  of  the  art  itself."  Well  know 
ing  the  great  bodily  exertion  which  up  to  that  time 
was  required  of  two  men  working  at  the  common 
press,  to  produce  two  hundred  and  fifty  impressions  of 
one  side  of  a  newspaper  in  an  hour,  I  might  well  be 
surprised  when  I  read  as  follows : — "The  reader  of  this 
paragraph  now  holds  in  his  hand  one  of  the  many 
thousand  impressions  of  'The  Times'  newspaper 
which  were  taken  off  last  night,  by  a  mechanical 
apparatus.  A  system  of  machinery  almost  organic 
has  been  devised  and  arranged,  which,  while  it  re 
lieves  the  human  frame  of  its  most  laborious  efforts 
in  printing,  far  exceeds  all  human  powers  in  rapidity 
and  dispatch."  The  process  is  then  briefly  described ; 
and  it  is  added,  "  the  whole  of  these  complicated  acts 
is  performed  with  such  a  velocity  and  simulta- 
neousness  of  movement,  that  no  less  than  eleven 
hundred  sheets  are  impressed  in  one  hour."  The 
invention  is  termed  in  this  announcement  "  The 
Printing  Machine."  The  inventor's  name  was  Koenig. 
For  ten  years  Mr.  Walter,  the  proprietor  of  "  The 
Times,"  had  been  vainly  endeavouring,  at  a  heavy 
cost,  to  perfect  some  machinery  by  which  he  could 
send  forth  a  greater  number  than  the  four  thousand 
copies  of  his  journal  which  he  was  able  to  produce 
by  the  utmost  exertion  of  manual  labour.  The 
machine  of  Koenig  was,  however,  a  most  complicated 
affair ;  expensive,  liable  to  derangement,  and  not 
capable,  therefore,  of  being  applied  to  the  general 
purposes  of  printing.  In  1823  I  read  in  Scott's  novel 
of  "  Quentin  Durward  "  the  prophetic  words  of  Marti- 
valle,  "  Can  I  look  forward  without  wonder  and  asto 
nishment  to  the  lot  of  a  succeeding  generation,  on 
whom  knowledge  shall  descend  like  the  first  and 


THE    FIRST    EPOCH.  117 

second  rain,  uninterrupted,  unabated,  unbounded." 
The  Printing  Press  had  produced  the  first  rain  ;  the 
Printing  Machine  was  the  "little  cloud  no  bigger 
than  a  man's  hand  "  which  promised  the  second  rain. 
There  was  now  some  chance  that  the  steam-engine 
would  accomplish  for  printing  what  it  was  accom 
plishing  for  navigation.  In  June,  1824, 1  attended  a 
trial  in  the  Common  Pleas,  in  which  the  Duke  of 
Northumberland  was  plaintiff,  and  my  friend,  Mr. 
Clowes,  the  defendant.  The  printer,  who  carried  on 
his  business  in  Northumberland  Court,  had  erected  a 
steam-press  in  his  cellar,  the  wall  of  which  abutted 
on  the  Duke's  princely  mansion  at  Charing  Cross. 
Ludicrous  it  was  to  hear  the  extravagant  terms  in 
which  the  counsel  for  the  plaintiff  and  his  witnesses 
described  the  alleged  nuisance — the  noise  made  by 
this  engine,  quite  horrid,  sometimes  resembling 
thunder,  at  other  times  like  a  threshing-machine, 
and  then  again  like  the  rumbling  of  carts  and  wag 
gons.  With  surpassing  ability  was  the  cause  of  the 
defendant  conducted  by  the  Attorney-General  (Cop 
ley).  The  course  of  the  trial  is  beside  my  present 
purpose.  Mi-.  Donkin,  the  celebrated  engineer,  de 
posed  that  there  were  not  less  than  twenty  engines 
erected  for  printing  in  London.  Simplifications  of 
the  original  invention  had  rendered  the  Printing 
Machine  applicable  to  the  production  of  books  as 
well  as  newspapers.  The  second  rain  was  beginning 
to  descend.  In  1814  I  was  very  far  from  a  concep 
tion  of  the  extent  in  which  the  invention  of  the 
Printing  Machine  would  affect  a  future  stage  in  my 
working  life.  But  in  the  boundless  fertility  of  that 
second  rain  I  anticipated  a  wider  scope  for  my  pro 
fessional  labours.  I  had  incurred  new  responsibilities, 


118  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE: 

and  had  gained  new  motives  for  exertion,  in  marrying. 
The  Christmas  of  that  year  saw  my  once  solitary 
home  lighted  up  with  love  and  cheerfulness. 

In  February,  1815,  a  Bill  was  hurried  through 
Parliament  which  absolutely  closed  the  ports  against 
the  introduction  of  foreign  corn  till  the  price  of  wheat 
should  rise  to  eighty  shillings  a  quarter.  I  rejoice  to 
see  that  I  was  fearless  of  the  indignation  which  the 
Windsor  paper,  circulating  chiefly  in  an  agricultural 
district,  would  produce,  when  I  wrote — "  It  is  hardly 
fair  that  the  landowner  and  cultivator  should  enter 
Parliament  with  such  a  formidable  power  as  the 
united  voice  of  the  people  will  scarcely  be  able  to 
put  down,  and  there  demand  that  the  price  of  wheat 
should  now  be  fixed  at  the  average  rate  of  a  time  of 
war.  There  are  many  noble  lords  and  right  honour 
able  gentlemen  who  have  doubled  their  rentals  since 
the  year  1794,  and  there  are  many  very  thrifty  agri 
culturists  who  have  purchased  the  estates  which  their 
fathers  only  tilled,  and  have  adjourned,  with  unsoiled 
hands,  from  the  oak-chair  in  the  chimney-corner  to 
the  velvet  sofa  in  the  drawing-room.  Doubtless  all 
this  is  very  agreeable  to  the  parties  themselves,  and 
worldly  wisdom  will  blame  no  man  for  preferring 
20,OOOZ.  to  10,000£,  or  a  hunter  and  madeira  to  a 
market-cart  and  ale.  But  then  it  is  rather  galling 
to  be  told  that  all  this  is  essentially  necessary  to  our 
existence  and  prosperity,  and  to  hear  it  very  gravely 
asserted  that  we  shall  be  all  the  happier  and  better 
for  being  shortly  allowed  to  get  two  loaves  with  the 
money  for  which  we  now  purchase  three." 

The  "  hunter  and  madeira  "  as  contrasted  with  the 
"  market-cart  and  ale  "  of  the  old  times,  was  not  un 
generously  applied  to  the  generation  of  Southern 


THE   FIRST   EPOCH.  119 

farmers,  who  had  sprung  up  in  the  days  of  protection 
and  paper  currency. 

The  marriage  of  the  Princess  Charlotte  with  Prince 
Leopold,  on  the  2nd  of  May,  1816,  was  an  event  in 
which  I  took  exceeding  interest.  It  set  me  poetizing ; 
for  I  was  somewhat  too  apt  to  be  moved  into  writing 
verse  on  passing  subjects,  forgetting  that  poetry  ought 
to  be  almost  exclusively  conversant  with  the  perma 
nent  and  universal.  My  Mask,  "  The  Bridal  of  the 
Isles,"  whatever  might  have  been  its  defects,  was 
not  written  in  the  spirit  of  a  courtier ;  for  in  the 
Second  Canto,  in  which  I  called  up  the  shades  of  the 
great  British  rulers  of  old,  I  put  these  lines  in  the 
mouth  of  Alfred  addressing  the  Genius  of  England  : — 

"  0,  I  have  watch'd  thy  monarchs  as  they  pass'd, — 
Now  leaping  upward  to  my  tempting  throne, 
Now  toppling  down  in  hateful  civil  strife, 
Or  sliding  to  the  slumbers  of  the  tomb  ; 
But  never  saw  I  one  who  fill'd  that  seat 
In  rightful  ministration,  who  might  say, 
*  This  is  my  couch  of  ease,  my  chair  of  joy, 
This  sceptre  is  a  pleasure-charming  rod 
To  call  up  all  fresh  luxuries  around  me.' 
The  lofty  soul,  with  reverend  eye  and  meek, 
"Would  look  upon  the  trappings  of  its  state 
As  emblems  of  a  fearful  trust,  that  ask'd 
The  smile  of  Heaven  on  self-denying  virtue. 
Yes  !  I  will  hover  round  those  youthful  hearts, 
Unblighted  yet  by  power — and  with  a  voice 
Borne  on  the  ear  by  eveiy  morning  breeze, 
Cry — '  Live  not  for  yourselves.'  " 

I  had  a  very  pleasant,  because  a  very  character 
istic,  letter  from  Leigh  Hunt  about  this  Mask.  He 
complimented  me  by  saying,  "It  is  very  crisp  and 
luxuriant,  and  shows  that  you  possess  in  a  great 
degree  my  favourite  part  of  the  poetical  spirit — that 
6 


120  PASSAGES    OE    A   WORKING    LIFE: 

of  enjoyment."  Yes.  It  was  that  spirit  of  enjoy 
ment  which  gave  Hunt  his  perennial  youth,  amidst 
worldly  troubles  as  great  as  most  men  have  endured ; 
which,  carried  somewhat  to  excess,  made  him  almost 
indifferent  to  adversity  in  its  stern  realities.  "  But," 
he  continued,  "  I  would  rather  talk  with  you  about 
these  matters  than  write  about  them  ;  for  when  I  get 
upon  poetry  I  feel  my  wings  on,  and  do  not  like  to 
wait  the  zig-zag  travelling  of  the  pen."  Happy 
nature  !  I  did  not  cultivate  his  acquaintance  as  I 
ought  to  have  done  in  this  fresh  time  of  hope.  I 
knew  him  in  later  years  when  I  was  sobered ;  but 
when  I  had  not  lost  the  power  of  enjoyment  in  his 
delightful  conversation,  so  charming — especially  to 
one  who  was  also  battling  with  the  world — in  its 
constant  looking  at  the  sunny  side  of  human  affairs. 

The  transition  from  joy  at  the  auspicious  marriage 
of  the  Princess  Charlotte,  to  the  universal  mourning 
for  her  death,  was  not  sudden  in  point  of  time,  but  it 
nevertheless  came  upon  the  nation  as  an  unexpected 
blow,  suspending  all  lesser  interests  of  domestic 
politics.  The  interval  between  May,  1816,  and  No 
vember,  1817,  was  one  of  very  serious  aspects.  The 
Government  and  the  People  were  not  in  accord ; 
suffering  and  sedition  went  hand  in  hand  ;  dema 
gogues  flourished;  spies  were  more  than  tolerated. 
Of  this  unhappy  period  I  shall  have  to  speak  in 
another  chapter.  Let  me  at  present  advert  to  some 
personal  experiences  at  the  funeral  of  the  Princess 
Charlotte,  on  Wednesday  evening,  the  19th  of  No 
vember,  which  I  thus  related  in  a  Supplementary 
Number  of  "The  Windsor  Express,"  published  on 
the  following  morning.  In  this  narrative  I  laid 
aside  the  usual  editorial  style,  and  signed  my  name 


THE    FIRST   EPOCH.  121 

as  to  facts  which  I  was  prepared  individually  to  sub 
stantiate  : — 

"  On  the  morning  of  Tuesday  I  received  from  one 
of  the  Canons  of  the  College  of  Windsor  a  ticket  of 
admission  to  the  organ-loft  of  St.  George's  Chapel,  to 
witness  the  ceremonial  of  the  late  Princess  Charlotte's 
interment.  This,  I  was  given  to  understand,  was 
presented  to  me  by  the  particular  direction  of  the 
Dean  and  Chapter,  to  allow  me  to  make  a  faithful 
report  of  the  solemnities,  and  as  a  compliment  to 
the  office  of  chief  magistrate  which  my  father  holds 
in  the  borough.  At  seven  o'clock  this  evening  I 
claimed  an  entrance  at  the  outer  gate  of  the  lower 
ward  of  the  Castle,  which  was  kept  by  two  subalterns 
of  the  Foot  Guards,  and  a  numerous  body  of  rank 
and  file.  Constables  of  the  borough  were  also  posted 
here,  but  they  were  evidently  considered  as  intruders 
upon  these  unconstitutional  guardians  of  the  peace. 
I  was  roughly  thrust  back  against  the  wheels  of  the 
carnages  which  were  passing  behind  me,  and  told,  in 
common  with  many  others  who,  like  myself,  had 
tickets,  that  no  more  would  be  admitted.  For  an 
hour  I  was  buffeted  about,  with  my  unfortunate  com 
panions,  who  comprised  some  of  the  most  respectable 
inhabitants  of  Windsor  ;  sometimes  collared  by  the 
soldiers,  sometimes  jammed  against  the  castle  wall, 
and  at  all  times  insulted  by  dogmatical  assertions  or 
sneering  indifference.  We  at  last  retired  in  despair, 
having  risked  our  lives  till  danger  was  no  longer 
endurable.  Ten  minutes  before  the  procession 
entered  the  gate,  I  procured  access  to  one  of  the 
officers,  under  the  escort  of  a  sentinel ;  and  having 
represented  the  peculiar  circumstances  under  which 
I  had  obtained  my  ticket,  and  the  duty  which  I 


123  PASSAGES   OF    A   WORKLNG   LIFE  I 

owed  to  tlae  public  to  enforce  my  claim  for  admission, 
requested  that  the  order  of  exclusion  might  be  with 
drawn.  I  was  haughtily  repulsed.  At  this  instant, 
two  military  men,  not  on  duty,  with  four  ladies,  were 
passed  through  the  gate  without  any  other  authority 
than  the  dictum  of  the  officer  I  was  addressing.  I 
complained  of  the  unjust  partiality  in  a  respectful 
manner.  For  that  presumption  I  was  instantly 
handed  over  to  the  next  corporal,  with  orders  'to 
take  back  that  man.'  Collared  like  a  felon,  I  was 
forced  along  the  line  of  foot-guards,  and  on  reaching 
the  last  soldier  was  thrust  against  a  carriage  like  an 
intrzsive  hound." 

Never  shall  I  forget  the  feelings  of  that  evening. 
After  my  long  detention  in  the  vain  endeavour  to 
assert  my  right  of  passing  the  outer  gate,  I  waited  to 
look  upon  the  street  procession.  When  I  came  back 
to  my  home,  exhausted,  boiling  over  with  indigna 
tion,  I  found  my  wife  in  a  situation  of  extreme 
danger.  For  some  days  she  had  been  seriously  ill. 
The  funeral  procession  had  passed  under  our  windows. 
The  lurid  glare  of  the  torches  ;  the  roll  of  carriages  ; 
the  tramp  of  horses,  amidst  the  universal  silence  of 
the  crowd ; — these,  almost  unendurable  for  any  in 
valid,  who  could  hear  all  but  who  could  not  look  out 
upon  a  scene  so  solemn  and  so  exciting,  produced  the 
most  alarming  effects  upon  one  who  was  at  the 
extreme  point  of  weakness.  By  God's  Providence, 
our  medical  friend,  a  surgeon  of  the  first  eminence 
in  Windsor,  returned  with  me  to  my  house,  having 
been  himself  subjected  to  the  outrages  of  the  mili 
tary.  He  was  thus  the  means  of  bestowing  such 
immediate  attentions  upon  his  patient  as  probably 
saved  her  in  the  dangerous  crisis  of  that  melan- 


THE   FIRST   EPOCH.  1.23 

clioly  November  night.  The  one  great  and  enduring 
happiness  of  my  life  was  to  be  preserved  to  me. 

At  this  Royal  Funeral,  when  a  whole  nation  was 
present  in  heart  and  mind,  these  military  outrages 
were  not  the  sole  disorders  and  indecencies.  The 
undertaker's  men  were  unmistakeably  drunk,  as  they 
reeled  up  the  steep  Castle  street.  Within  St.  George's 
Chapel  there  were  struggles  and  murmurs,  as  in  an 
overcrowded  pit  at  the  theatre  ;  for  three  or  four 
hundred  rank  and  file  of  the  Guards  were  placed 
from  the  western  entrance  to  the  extremity  of  the 
nave,  so  as  to  prevent  nine-tenths  of  the  assemblage 
— admitted  by  tickets — from  seeing  more  of  the 
solemnity  than  they  could  have  seen  had  the  outer 
walls  of  the  Chapel  been  the  barrier  to  their  desires. 
Just  before  the  procession  arrived,  there  was  a  noisy 
conflict  at  the  door  of  the  Choir,  which  had  ulterior 
consequences.  One  of  the  Canons  refused  to  admit 
a  confidential  page  of  the  Regent,  who  had  been 
commanded  to  notice  and  report  to  his  royal  master 
how  the  ceremony  was  conducted.  "  It  is  our  free 
hold,"  said  the  Church  Dignitary.  "  It  is  the  Chapel 
of  the  Order  of  the  Garter,"  replied  the  offended 
Ruler;  "  and  until  the  clerical  ministers  of  the 
Order  can  behave  better,  they  shall  come  down 
from  their  accustomed  seats  in  the  stalls  of  the 
Knights." 

In  my  newspaper  of  the  Saturday  which  followed 
the  Supplement  of  the  20th  of  November,  I  wrote  an 
article  entitled  "  Excessive  Employment  of  Soldiery 
in  a  Religious  Solemnity,  and  Abuses  in  Military 
Power."  My  animadversion  on  "Abuses  in  Military 
Power "  was  bitter  enough  in  its  general  invective ; 
but  there  was  nothing  that  the  epauletted  puppies 


124  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE: 

who  talked  of  horsewhipping  the  newspaper-fellow 
could  have  produced  in  a  court  of  justice  as  a  justi 
fication  of  a  new  outrage.  I  have  detailed  this 
occurrence  at  somewhat  greater  length  than  it  pro 
bably  deserved  ;  but  it  presents  a  striking  contrast 
not  only  to  the  altered  temper  of  the  military  in 
these  happier  times,  but  to  the  manner  in  which  the 
conductors  of  the  Press  are  now  respected  in  the  dis 
charge  of  their  useful  functions  as  the  accredited 
representatives  of  the  people. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

HATEVER  might  have  been  the  monotony 
of  the  life  of  the  editor  of  a  provincial 
journal  in  the  mere  discharge  of  his  office 
duties,  I  could  always  find  an  ever-chang 
ing  interest  in  the  necessity  for  seeing  many  things 
with  my  own  eyes ;  in  making  personal  inquiries  in 
distant  places  as  to  the  correctness  of  reputed  occur 
rences — in  fact,  in  being  my  own  reporter.  Much  of 
my  time  was  spent  on  horseback.  My  ordinary 
costume  was  knee-breeches  and  top-boots.  My 
varied  out-door  life  was  as  healthful  as  it  was 
instructive.  In  these  local  operations  the  brain  was 
not  heavily  taxed.  Education  was  going  on.  Some 
exercise  of  the  intellect  was  essential  to  report  the 
speeches  at  a  public  meeting.  The  facts  exhibited 
at  a  coroner's,  inquest  might  be  best  dispatched  in 
that  brief  style  which  was  once  considered  sufficient 
for  the  London  newspaper,  but  which  is  now  dis 
placed  by  the  most  wonderful  accumulation  of  "horror 
on  horror's  head."  Sometimes,  however,  the  country 
newspaper  might  attempt  to  be  graphic  when  it  had 
to  record  occurrences  of  an  unusual  nature ;  and  yet 
the  absolute  limitation  of  space  would  often  compel 
rne  to  throw  away  the  kernel  of  the  picturesque  to 
give  my  readers  the  hard  shell  of  the  literal. 

On  the  4th  of  July,  1816,  I  rode  out  to  Maiden 
head  Thicket  to  behold  a  remarkable  proof  of  the 


126  PASSAGES   OF    A    WORKING   LIFE: 

alleged  want  of  employment  in  the  mining  and 
manufacturing  districts.  On  the  road  from  Henley 
there  was  the  halt  of  a  cavalcade — not  such  as  the 
poet  and  the  novelist  have  so  often  described  as  the 
halt  of  jovial  pilgrims  taking  their  morning  meal  in 
the  beechen  shade  ;  but  of  a  party  of  grim  colliers 
clustered  round  a  waggon  laden  with  coals,  which 
they  had  drawn  for  many  miles,  and  whose  further 
progress  was  interrupted  at  the  mandate  of  a  Bow- 
street  magistrate.  From  Bilston  Moor — where  the 
furnaces  of  many  iron-works  no  longer  darkened  the 
air  with  their  smoke,  and  the  windlass  of  many  a  pit 
was  now  idle — forty-one  men,  having  a  leader  on 
horseback,  had  the  day  before  passed  through  Oxford, 
dragging  the  waggon  in  solemn  silence,  asking  no 
alms,  but  bearing  a  placard,  on  which  was  inscribed, 
"Willing  to  work,  but  none  of  us  will  beg."  Their 
intention,  as  well  as  that  of  another  party  march 
ing  on  the  St.  Alban's  Road,  was  to  proceed  to 
London,  in  the  belief  that  the  Prince  Regent 
could  order  them  employment.  At  Maidenhead  the 
military  were  prepared  for  some  dire  conflict  with 
want  and  desperation.  But  Sir  Richar'd  Birnie  very 
wisely  went  forward  with  two  police-officers,  finally 
persuading  these  men  to  let  their  coals  be  taken  into 
Maidenhead,  and  to  receive  a  handsome  present 
which  would  enable  them  to  return  to  their  homes. 
They  were  punctilious  in  refusing  to  sell  their  coals. 
The  march  of  the  blanketeers  of  Manchester  in  the 
next  year  was  not  so  quietly  prevented. 

There  never  was  a  problem  more  difficult  of  solu 
tion,  even  by  the  soundest  political  economists  of  the 
time,  than  that  of  the  condition  of  the  labouring 
classes  in  1816  and  1817.  When  I  look  back  on 


THE   FIRST   EPOCH.  127 

what  I  wrote  on  this  overwhelming  subject  in  the 
last  four  years  of  the  reign  of  George  the  Third,  I 
behold  a  succession  of  fallacies  and  half-truths  pro 
pounded  with  a  sincere  belief  and  with  a  benevolent 
earnestness.  I  was  groping  my  way,  in  common  with 
most  public  writers,  in  the  thick  darkness  by  which  we 
were  surrounded.  The  text  upon  which  I  commonly 
preached  was  from  Southey — not  the  Southey  de 
nounced  by  the  "Anti-Jacobin"  of  1797,  but  the 
Southey  of  1817,  who  denounced  Byron  and  the 
"  Satanic  School."  The  text  was  not  in  any  great 
degree  an  exaggerated  description  of  the  condition  of 
England.  "  We  are  arrived  at  that  state  in  which  the 
extremes  of  inequality  are  become  intolerable."  The 
fallacies  and  half-truths  of  the  usual  comment  upon 
this  doctrine  sprang  from  a  narrow  and  one-sided 
view  of  the  causes  of  these  extremes. 

I  maintained,  not  without  reason,  that  the  existence 
of  some  radical  disease  in  the  condition  of  the  labour 
ing  classes  had  been  long  indicated  by  the  progressive 
increase  of  the  Poor  Rates.  I  held  that  the  prodigious 
increase  in  the  demands  of  pauperism,  from  the 
million  and  a  half  sterling  in  1776,  to  the  eight 
millions  in  1815,  was  the  consequence  of  some  system 
which,  as  it  had  multiplied  the  temporary  sources  of 
profitable  labour,  had  a  natural  tendency  to  multiply 
population,  without  providing  for  the  regular  support 
of  the  human  beings  which  it  called  forth.  I  averred 
that  the  mechanical  improvements  of  the  forty  years 
constituted  that  system.  The  war,  which  produced 
a  comparative  monopoly  of  commerce,  gave  birth  to  a 
new  machinery  to  supply  that  monopoly.  The  manu 
facturing  system  made  no  provision  for  that  inevitable 
period  when  the  trading  intercourse  of  the  world 


128  PASSAGES   OF    A   WORKING   LIFE: 

would  return  to  its  accustomed  channels,  and  man 
kind  would  be  free  to  use  the  same  instruments  of 
commercial  advantage  that  we  had  employed.  The 
system  had  called  into  action  half  a  million  of  human 
beings  whom  it  had  now  unavoidably  abandoned. 
The  State  must  therefore  supply  the  means  of  life, 
which  the  ordinary  modes  of  employment  could  no 
longer  give. 

I  had  never  seen  the  practical  working  of  the 
manufacturing  system,  and  thus  I  talked,  as  it)  was 
the  fashion  to  talk  when  Southey  wrote,  "The  nation 
that  builds  upon  manufactures  sleeps  upon  gun 
powder."  But  I  was  perfectly  familiar  with  the 
condition  of  the  agricultural  districts.  I  held,  truly, 
that  the  organization  of  society  in  Great  Britian  had 
been  completely  changed  by  the  system  of  inclosures 
and  agricultural  improvements.  These  were  forced 
on  by  the  increased  demand  for  corn,  originating  in 
the  extraordinary  consumption  and  waste  of  war,  and 
in  the  increased  wants  of  an  increased  manufactur 
ing  population.  I  wept  over  the  diminution  of  the 
labour  which  was  once  required  by  imperfect  modes 
of  cultivation.  I  grieved  over  the  extinguishing  of 
those  indirect  means  of  support  which  supplied  the 
primitive  wants  of  the  ancient  peasantry.  I  missed 
the  old  commons  on  which  I  used  to  ramble  in  my 
boyhood.  I  saw  no  longer  the  half-starved  cow 
of  the  cottager  tethered  before  the  broken-down 
hedge  of  his  slovenly  garden,  and  the  pig  lying  on 
the  dunghill  that  blocked  up  the  dirty  approach  to 
his  ruinous  hovel.  The  additional  patch  of  garden- 
ground  that  was  allotted  to  him  seemed  to  me  but  a 
poor  compensation  for  the  heath  where  he  once  might 
freely  cut  the  turf  for  his  fire.  I  grieved  the  grief  of 


THE   FIRST   EPOCH.  129 

ignorance  when  I  quoted  the  population  returns  of 
1811,  to  prove  that  while  two  or  three  millions  of 
additional  mouths  had  been  maintained  from  the 
land,  some  thousands  less  had  been  maintained  upon 
the  land.  The  interests  of  the  consumers  appeared 
to  me  small  in  comparison  with  those  of  the  pro 
ducers.  Had  I  looked  more  deeply  into  the  matter, 
I  might  have  mourned  over  a  greater  evil  than;  the 
destruction  of  the  semi-barbarous  independence  of 
the  squatters  who  had  regarded  the  heaths  and 
commons  as  their  proper  and  peculiar  inheritance. 
I  might  have  reasonably  mourned  that  the  Agricul 
tural  Labourers  were  slaves  to  the  Poor  Laws — 
brought  into  the  world  as  paupers  by  the  improvi 
dent  encouragement  to  early  marriages  under  the 
allowance-system  ;  kept  through  life  as  paupers  by 
receiving  as  alms  what  they  had  fairly  earned  as 
wages ;  deprived  of  profitable  employment,  and 
hunted  from  parish  to  parish,  by  the  laws  of  Settle 
ment  ;  punished  with  the  most  unrelenting  severity 
if  they  should  knock  down  a  rabbit.  I  might  at 
that  time  have  protested  against  the  bulk  of  the 
population  being  kept  in  the  most  degrading  igno 
rance,  by  the  dread  which  then  very  generally  pre 
vailed  in  rural  districts,  that  to  educate  the  labourer 
was  to  unfit  him  for  the  duties  (they  might  have  said 
the  degradations)  of  "  that  state  of  life  into  which  it 
had  pleased  God  to  call  him  " — the  formula  of  conso 
lation  always  addressed  to  the  poor  for  the  repression 
of  any  impious  desire  to  better  their  condition. 

The  experience  of  all  men,  whether  in  the  South 
or  the  North,  was  sufficient  to  show  that  a  superfluous 
population  was  now  pressing  upon  the  capital  devoted 
to  the  maintenance  of  labour.  But,  in  that  time  of 
bold  and  impudent  assertion,  there  were  believers  ever. 


130  PASSAGES   OF  A  WORKING    LIFE: 

in  Cobbett  when  he  said  "I  am  quite  convinced  that 
the  population,  upon  the  whole,  has  not  increased, 
in  England,  one  single  soul  since  I  was  born."  Still 
less  would  many  doubt  the  truth  of  his  description 
of  the  Labourers'  Paradise  in  the  days  "  before  they 
were  stripped  of  the  commons,  of  their  kettles,  their 
bedding,  their  beer-barrels." 

Whatever  might  be  my  heresies  as  to  the  best 
modes  of  bettering  the  condition  of  the  Poor,  I  never 
had  any  doubt  of  the  advantages  of  educating  them. 
It  was  not  often  that  I  came  into  contact  with  men 
who  were  capable  of  uniting  strong  benevolent  im 
pulses  with  the  broad  view  of  the  consequences  of 
making  the  pauper  more  comfortable  than  the  inde 
pendent  labourer.  A  sort  of  instinctive  horror  of  the 
Malthusian  doctrine  was  at  the  bottom  of  the  thoughts 
of  many  sensible  persons,  who,  in  spite  of  their  own 
convictions,  were  for  the  most  liberal  parish  allow 
ances  according  to  the  number  of  children  in  a  family, 
and  for  the  best  dietary  within  the  Workhouse  walls. 
Such  were,  to  some  extent,  the  convictions  of  one  of 
the  shrewdest  and  most  warm-hearted  of  self-taught 
men  with  whom  it  was  ever  my  happiness  to  become 
acquainted.  Mr.  Ingalton  had  a  flourishing  business 
as  a  shoemaker  at  Eton.  His  son,  a  young  artist  of 
great  promise,  was  for  some  years  the  most  intimate 
companion  of  my  leisure ;  and  he  is  one  of  the  few 
whom  time  has  spared  to  show  me  how  justly  I 
esteemed  him.  In  his  painting-room  I  have  had 
many  a  friendly  argument  with  his  intelligent  father. 
There  was  another  occasional  visitor  of  that  painting- 
room,  who  was  ready  to  discuss  controverted  subjects 
of  social  economy,  with  a  perfect  theoretical  know 
ledge,  but  with  the  practical  earnestness  of  a  Christian 


THE  FIKST  EPOCH.  131 

love  for  his  fellow-creatures.  Often  have  I  listened 
with  real  delight  to  an  instructive  dialogue  between 
the  refined  scholar  and  the  thoughtful  tradesman, 
who  was  not  wanting  in  book-knowledge  but  was 
stronger  in  his  mother-wit.  I  see  his  stately  figure 
in  his  working  garb — fresh  from  the  "  cutting  out " 
of  his  back-shop — standing  side  by  side  with  the  tall 
and  thin  clergyman  before  his  son's  easel,  and  dis 
coursing,  with  no  ordinary  knowledge  of  the  prin 
ciples  of  Art,  upon  the  composition  of  the  "  Cottage 
interior  "  or  the  "  Village  Concert."  The  characters 
of  the  English  scenes  which  his  son  painted,  in  the 
days  of  Wilkie,  were  studies  from  life  ;  and  thus  the 
transition  of  talk  was  natural  enough  from  the  picture 
to  the  reality.  The  accomplished  divine,  who  was 
not  unfamiliar  with  many  an  abode  of  poverty,  was 
a  patient  listener  to  every  plea  for  tenderness  to  the 
improvident,  and  of  compassion  for  the  ignorant  fol 
lowers  of  things  evil.  But  he  believed  in  more  en 
during  helps  than  casual  charity.  A  few  years  before, 
he  had  proclaimed  the  great  principle,  that  "the  only 
true  secret  of  assisting  the  poor  is  to  make  them  agents 
in  bettering  their  own  condition,  and  to  supply  them, 
uot  with  a  temporary  stimulus,  but  with  a  permanent 
energy Many  avenues  to  an  improved  con 
dition  are  open  to  one  whose  faculties  are  enlarged 
and  exercised  ;  he  sees  his  own  interest  more  clearly, 
he  pursues  it  more  steadily,  and  he  does  not  study 
immediate  gratification  at  the  expense  of  bitter  and 
late  repentance,  or  mortgage  the  labour  of  his  future 
life  without  an  adequate  return."  *  A  year  or  two 
later,  I  had  a  more  intimate  knowledge  of  this 
admirable  expositor  of  principles  which  have  even- 
*  "  Records  of  Creation,"  1816. 


132  PASSAGES    OF  A  WOKKING    LIFE  : 

tually  triumphed  over  the  fears  of  the  rich  and  the 
doubts  of  the  learned.  But  in  yielding  up  some 
prejudices  to  the  gentle  persuasiveness  of  the  Fellow 
of  Eton — who,  by  his  recent  sermons  in  the  College 
Chapel  had  produced  a  marked  effect  in  the  moral 
conduct  of  five  hundred  youths — T  could  scarcely 
then  have  believed  that  I  was  receiving  lessons  of 
practical  wisdom  from  a  future  Archbishop  of  Can 
terbury,  when  I  was  an  earnest  listener  to  John  Bird 
Suinner. 

At  the  Lady  Day  of  1818  I  was  placed  in  a  position 
to  acquire  a  somewhat  enlarged  experience  of  the 
working  of  the  Poor  Laws.  My  father,  as  Chief 
Magistrate,  nominated  me  one  of  the  Overseers  of 
the  Parish  of  Windsor.  He  wished  me  to  become 
familiar  with  public  business  ;  and  although  the 
appointment  was  not  much  to  my  taste  I  soon  came 
to  acknowledge  that  he  was  right.  I  could  scarcely 
have  foreseen  the  benefit  that  such  experience,  how 
ever  limited,  would  be  to  me  in  my  future  profes 
sional  pursuits.  As  there  is  no  man  from  whom 
something  may  not  be  learnt,  even  in  standing  with 
him  under  a  gateway  in  a  shower  of  rain,  so  there  is 
no  public  office,  however  little  elevated  above  that  of 
the  Constable,  and  far  below  the  grandeur  of  the 
Justice  of  the  Peace,  from  which  he  who  sets  about 
the  performance  of  its  duties  in  a  right  spirit  may 
not  acquire  some  practical  wisdom  to  fit  him  for  a 
higher  sphere  of  action. 


CHAPTER  V. 

T  this  period,  when  I  was  working  energe 
tically  at  parish  affairs  in  addition  to  my 
ordinary  business,  I  was  equally  busied 
with  literary  schemes.     The  practical  and 
the  ideal  had  possession  of  my  mind  at  one  and  the 
same  time,  and  had  no  contention  for  superiority.     I 
may  truly  say — and  I  say  it  for  the  encouragement 
of  any  young  man  who  is  sighing  over  the  fetters  of 
his  daily  labour,  and  pining  for  weeks  and  months  of 
uninterrupted  study — that  I  have  found  through  life 
that  the   acquisition    of  knowledge,  and   a   regular 
course  of  literary  employment,  are  far  from   being 
incompatible   with    commercial   pursuits.      I   doubt 
whether,  if  I  had  been  all  author  or  all  publisher,  I 
should  have  succeeded  better  in  either  capacity.     It 
is  true  that  these  my  occupations  were  homogeneous ; 
but  I  question  whether  that  condition  is  necessary  in 
any  case — in  a  lawyer's,  for  example — where  there  is 
sufficient  elasticity  of  mind  to  turn  readily  out  of 
the  main  line  to  the  loop-line  (how  could  I  have 
expressed  this  in  the  days  before  Stephenson  T),  and 
sufficient  steadiness  of  purpose  to  return  to  it.     In 
my  time  of  humble  journalism  at  Windsor,  I  was 
constantly  devising  some  magnificent  scheme  of  books 
that  I  thought  the  world  wanted ;  in  which  opinion, 
it  is  most  probable,  I  should  have  found  no  encou- 
rager  in  the  cautious  experience  of  "  The  Row "  or 


134  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE! 

in  the  venturous  liberality  of  Albemarle  Street. 
One  small  project  1  carried  out  myself  without  com 
mercial  aid. 

Keats  has  described   his   acquaintance  with   our 
grand  old  poets : 

"  Oft  had  I  travell'd  in  the  realms  of  gold." 

Now  and  then  I  came  across  a  volume  which  I  could 
take  up  again  and  again,  even  whilst  Byron  was  sti 
mulating  me  with  his  "Corsair"  and  his  "Giaour," 
and  whilst  Wordsworth  was  awakening  a  more  pro 
found  sense  of  the  higher  objects  of  poetry.  Such 
a  volume  was  Shakspere's  "Sonnets,"  rarely  pub 
lished  with  the  Plays,  and  known  only  to  a  few 
enthusiasts  who  did  not  believe,  with  Steevens, 
that  they  were  sentimental  rubbish.  Such  was 
"  England's  Parnassus,"  which  I  borrowed,  and  longed 
to  appropriate.  No  publisher  had  then  thought  it 
worth  while  to  reprint  Drayton,  or  Wither,  or 
Herrick,  or  Herbert.  The  delight  which  Keats 
expressed  in  his  noble  Sonnet  upon  the  discovery  of 
Chapman's  "  Homer  "  was  mine,  when  I  first  lighted 
upon  Fairfax's  "  Tasso."  I  had  entered  a  new  realm 
of  gold.  To  me  that  small  folio — the  first  edition, 
revised  by  Fairfax  himself — was  a  precious  treasure. 
There  had  been  no  edition  of  the  book  for  seventy 
years.  Resolved  that  I  would  achieve  the  honour  of 
reprinting  it,  I  issued  an  Advertisement,  in  October, 
1817,  in  which  I  said,  "Dr.  Johnson,  with  somewhat 
of  his  characteristic  temerity,  ventured  to  predict 
that  the  'Tasso'  of  Fairfax  would  never  be  reprinted. 
If  the  national  taste  in  poetry  had  not  mended  since 
the  days  of  that  critic,  his  prophetic  flattery  of  Hoole 
would  not  yet  have  been  disproved."  The  produc- 


THE   FIRST  EPOCH.  135 

tion  of  two  small  volumes  at  our  Windsor  Press  of 
the  exquisite  translation  that  had  been  forgotten 
since  Collins  had  rejoiced  to  hear  Tasso's  harp  "  by 
English  Fairfax  strung,"  was  received  by  a  few  critics 
as  creditable  to  the  taste  of  a  country  printer.  The 
editing  of  this  volume  was  a  pleasant  occupation  to 
me.  I  prefixed  to  it  a  Life  of  Tasso,  and  a  Life  of 
Fairfax.  In  that  of  Fairfax  I  inserted  an  Eclogue 
which  was  first  printed  in  Mrs.  Cooper's  "  Muses' 
Library" — a  volume  which  had  become  scarce,  and 
which  I  found  at  the  London  Institution.  Mr. 
Upcott  was  then  the  librarian  in  the  new  building, 
which,  in  its  handsome  elevation  and  its  judicious 
interior  arrangements,  did  credit  to  the  architect, 
then  a  young  man — Mr.  William  Brooks,  the  father 
of  Mr.  Shirley  Brooks.  My  reprint  appeared  a  little 
before  that  of  Mr.  Singer ;  or  probably  I  might  have 
shrunk  from  the  competition. 

Every  now  and  then,  however,  my  newspaper 
opened  subjects  of  a  new  and  interesting  character, 
which  engaged  my  attention  for  a  time.  Such 
was  the  question  of  inquiry  into  the  Endowed 
Charities  of  the  country,  which  in  1818  had  as 
sumed  a  national  importance.  By  the  strenuous 
exertions  of  Mr.  Brougham  a  Commission  was 
appointed — first  to  inquire  into  charities  connected 
with  Education,  and  then  into  all  charities.  Pend 
ing  the  results  of  this  investigation,  a  volume  was 
published  by  a  member  of  the  Bar,  Mr.  Francis 
Charles  Parry,  on  the  Charities  of  Berkshire.  Such 
an  account  as  this  gentleman  collected,  somewhat 
too  full  of  vague  charges  of  abuses,  determined  me  to 
undertake  a  really  useful  labour — that  of  carefully 
searching  all  the  documents  relating  to  the  charities 


136  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE: 

of  Windsor,  and  of  publishing  them  in  the  most 
complete  form  in  my  newspaper.  It  was  an  honour 
to  my  native  town  that  no  information  was  withheld 
from  me  ;  and  that  I  could  discover  no  misappro 
priation  of  bequests,  and  no  violation  of  "  the  will  of 
the  founder."  JSTor  was  there  any  example  of  that 
species  of  legal  construction  of  "the  will  of  the 
founder"  which  has  built  up  the  magnificence  of 
many  of  the  London  Companies.  Vast  are  their 
rent-rolls.  In  days  when  houses  and  lands  were  not 
worth  a  twentieth  part  of  their  present  nominal 
value,  these  magnates  became  the  inheritors  of  many 
a  fertile  acre  and  many  an  improveable  tenement,  in 
trust  that  they  should  pay,  for  defined  charitable 
purposes,  a  particular  amount  of  pounds  sterling, 
annually  and  for  ever — probably  the  then  rent  of 
those  lands  and  houses  leaving  something  for  need 
ful  charges.  The  rents  of  the  fourteenth,  or  fifteenth, 
or  sixteenth  centuries — the  defined  sums — are  justly 
paid.  The  surplus  of  the  rents  of  the  nineteenth 
century,  increased  twenty-fold  or  even  fifty-fold,  are 
partially  employed  for  useful  purposes  ;  but  they  go 
very  far  towards  the  cost  of  the  turtle  and  loving- 
cups  upon  which  so  much  of  the  public  welfare 
depends.  Though  Windsor  had  no  flagrant  abuses, 
a  few  of  our  charities  furnished  an  example  of  the 
necessity  of  giving  large  powers  to  Charity  Commis 
sioners,  if  not  for  authorizing  the  Government,  to 
deal  with  some  benevolent  provisions  of  ancient  times 
in  a  way  better  adapted  to  the  wants  of  modern 
society.  But  the  greater  number  were  not  wholly 
for  past  generations  in  their  usefulness.  There  was 
a  Free  School,  with  a  considerable  permanent  income, 
where  fifty  boys  and  girls  were  educated  and  clothed. 


THE   FIRST   EPOCH.  137 

It  did  not  belong  to  the  then  much  abused  class  of 
Grammar  Schools — of  which  there  were  several  speci 
mens  within  my  knowledge — where  the  clergyman, 
who  was  also  the  schoolmaster,  put  the  funds  into  his 
pocket  because  the  farmers'  and  labourers'  sons  did 
not  want  to  learn  Latin.  The  poor  children  of  our 
borough  were  taught  those  humble  accomplishments 
which  Sir  William  Curtis  eulogised  as  the  three  Rs — 
Reading,  Riting,  and  Rithmetic.  With  the  aid  of 
supplementary  endowments  for  Apprenticing  Poor 
Boys  and  Rewarding  Diligent  Apprentices,  many  of 
these  lads  became  thriving  tradesmen.  I  could  point 
to  one  man  whom  I  am  proud  to  call  my  friend, 
who  came  to  my  father  to  be  apprenticed  with  his 
blue  lively  on  his  back ;  received  the  reward  upon 
the  faithful  completion  of  his  indentures;  pursued 
the  trade  on  his  own  account  in  which  he  had  been 
a  valuable  assistant ;  is  now  not  unknown  to  the 
world,  as  having,  before  the  days  of  railroads,  orga 
nised  a  newspaper-system  which  fought  against  space 
and  timo  to  give  the  earliest  intelligence  to  the 
Liverpool  Exchange;  and  has  become  himself  a 
newspaper  proprietor,  and  one  of  the  chief  mediums 
for  the  journalistic  communication  between  England 
and  her  Colonies  as  well  as  with  North  and  South 
America.  Honoured  be  the  memory  of  Archbishop 
Laud,  who  by  his  will  thus  made  provision  not 
onlv  for  the  apprenticeship  of  "children  of  honest 
poor  people ;"  but  laid  the  foundations  of  their  future 
prosperity.  Many  a  young  woman,  through  his  pro 
vident  care,  has  kept  her  position  in  "  the  faithful 
service  of  the  antique  world,"  and  has  not  rushed 
into  premature  wedlock,  sustained  by  the  hope  of  re 
ceiving  a  marriage -portion  on  the  condition  of  having 


138  PASSAGES    OF    A    WORKING    LIFE: 

served  the  same  master  or  mistress  for  three  years. 
Let  us  cherish  the  memory  of  Laud  for  the  sake  of 
his  Berkshire  Charities.  What  matters  it  to  us  that 
we  have  outgrown  his  politics  and  his  polemics ! 
May  we  never,  in  dreams  of  universal  philanthropy, 
believe  that  we  are  growing  in  true  philosophy  when 
we  attempt  to  exclude  individual  sympathies  for  the 
lowly  by  larger  aspirations  for  the  human  race. 
Above  all,  let  us  not  presume  to  obliterate  the  Past, 
by  turning  aside  from  those  who  have  helped,  each 
according  to  his  lights,  to  build  up  a  wider  Present — 
erring  men — short-sighted — enemies  to  progress  in 
the  abstract,  but  nevertheless,  in  their  practical  bene 
volence,  working  for  the  "  one  increasing  purpose  "  of 
human  improvement. 

Social  Science  in  1818  had  a  very  small  attend 
ance  of  disciples  in  her  schools.  For  an  inquiring 
few,  she  had  her  Primers  and  her  Junior  Class 
Books ;  and  in  her  inner  courts  for  the  initiated, 
Bentham  was  preaching  in  a  language  the  farthest 
removed  from  popular  comprehension.  Komilly, 
in  the  House  of  Commons,  had  been  labouring  for 
ten  years  to  amend  the  Criminal  Laws.  His 
valuable  life  was  closed  prematurely  before  he 
had  achieved  any  marked  victory  over  the  system 
under  which  the  death  penalty  was  capriciously 
enforced,  to  inspire  "a  vague  terror"  amongst  the 
whole  criminal  population.  The  prisons  were  nur 
series  of  crime.  The  detective  police  were  amongst 
crime's  chief  encouragers.  Forgery  flourished  above 
all  other  crimes,  for  the  Government  offered  the 
temptation  whilst  they  unsparingly  hanged  the 
tempted.  The  Game  Laws  raised  up  pilfering  pea 
sants  into  gangs  of  brigands.  Smuggling  was 
nurtured  into  the  dignity  of  commercial  enterprise, 
by  protective  duties  so  absurdly  high  that  a  wall 


THE   FIEST   EPOCH.  139 

of  brass  could  not  have  kept  out  the  brandies  and 
lace  arid  silk  that  the  Continent  was  ready  to  pour 
in.  The  great  bulk  of  the  population  was  wholly 
ignorant  and  partly  brutal.  The  Church  had  not 
awakened  from  its  long  sleep.  If  the  schoolmaster 
was  abroad,  he  was  rather  seeking  for  work  than 
doing  it.  Looking  as  a  journalist  upon  our  social 
condition,  I  was  sometimes  unhappy  and  desponding. 
My  dissatisfaction  found  a  vent  in  letters  from  an 
imaginary  correspondent : — 

"  The  prevailing  feeling  which  a  newspaper  excites 
in  my  breast,  without  the  indulgence  of  any  sickly 
sensibility,  is  that  of  melancholy.  It  presents  a 
gloomy  portrait  of  our  species.  It  is  a  living  herald 
of  the  bad  passions  of  individuals  and  the  mistakes 
of  society.  It  discovers  little  of  the  better  part  of 
mankind,  for  the  most  elevated  virtue  is  the  most 
unobtrusive.  The  atmosphere  of  vice  is  a  broad 
and  visible  darkness  overspreading  the  land,  through 
which  the  gaunt  spectres  of  crime  glare  fearfully 
upon  us.  The  newspaper  applies  its  microscopic 
eyes  to  these  miserable  objects  ;  like  Tarn  O'Shanter, 
it  looks  upon  their  secret  revels — it  notes  every 
movement  of  the  infuriated  dance ;  it  traces  the 
progress  of  evil  from  its  mazy  beginning  to  its  hor 
rible  close  ;  it  anatomizes  the  deformities  of  the 
heart,  and  encases  them  for  public  exhibition. 
Should  these  spectacles  be  withheld  from  the 
general  eye?  Unquestionably  not.  They  administer, 
indeed,  to  that  love  of  strong  excitement  which 
characterizes  the  human  mind  in  every  state,  but 
which  operates  most  powerfully  upon  a  highly  re 
fined  community — and  so  far  they  are  mischievous. 
But  still  they  have  a  voice  of  edification.  They 


140  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING    LIFE: 

summon  us  all  to  the  labour  of  opposing  that  flood 
of  iniquity  which  threatens  to  break  down  the  dykes 
and  mounds  of  our  social  institutions ;  they  call  us 
to  eradicate  the  canker  which  interrupts  the  natural 
spring  of  moral  health.  The  evil  is  in  the  root. 
The  institutions  for  the  prevention  and  punishment 
of  crime  are  founded  upon  a  wrong  view  of  human 
nature  ;  they  have  a  direct  tendency  to  confirm  and 
multiply  the  effects  of  depraved  ignorancfe. 

"  Your  weekly  '  map  of  busy  life '  reaches  me  in 
the  solitude  of  the  most  beautiful  and  the  least 
visited  part  of  Windsor  Forest.  This  morning  I 
rose  ere  the  sun  had  lighted  the  autumnal  foliage 
with  a  brighter  yellow  and  a  richer  brown.  My 
walk  was  in  the  silent  woods.  All  around  me  was 
cheerfulness.  The  birds  of  song  were  pouring  forth 
their  instinctive  gratitude  for  returning  day  —  the 
noisy  rooks  had  a  spirit  of  gladness  in  their  whirling 
flights — the  graceful  deer  glided  before  me  with 
fearless  nimbleness.  My  heart  expanded  at  the 
enjoyments  of  these  humble  beings.  Surely,  I  ex 
claimed,  every  creature  that  lives  in  conformity  to 
its  nature  is  happy.  I  returned  to  my  home.  Your 
journal  was  on  my  breakfast-table.  The  calendar 
of  the  'Old  Bailey'  met  my  view.  I  read  of  the 
condemnation  of  thirty-five  persons  to  the  penalty 
of  death,  and  of  nearly  two  hundred  to  lesser  degrees 
of  punishment.  I  considered  that  these  scenes  are 
repeated  every  six  weeks  !*  The  impressions  of  my 
morning  walk  had  a  redoubled  force.  I  felt  assured 
that  man  was  not  destined  to  crime  and  misery. 

*  The  Central  Criminal  Court  was  not  established  till  1834.  The 
Sessions  of  the  Old  Bailey,  previous  to  that  change,  were  held 
eight  times  a  year  for  the  trial  of  offences  committed  in  Middlesex. 


THE    FIRST    EPOCH.  141 

Are,  then,  these  penal  modes  of  counteracting  the 
corruptions  of  society  suggested  by  reason  and  bene 
volence  ? " 

I  believe  that  at  this  period  I  got  into  a  morbid 
state  of  mind,  by  thinking  too  much  of 

"  the  heavy  and  the  weary  weight 
Of  all  this  unintelligible  world." 

I  had  no  large  and  definite  object  of  ambition.  My 
occupations  were  not  engrossing  enough  to  carry 
me  away  from  dreamy  speculations.  I  pored  over 
the  Platonic  writers,  Proclus  and  Plotinus,  in  Tay 
lor's  translations  ;  and  accepted  the  philosophy  of 
which  Coleridge  was  the  modern  expositor,  as  far 
nobler  than  the  doctrine  of  ideas  derived  from  sen 
sation.  I  sometimes  thought  that  the  great  mysteries 
of  human  life  were  clearing  up  ;  and  then  again  I 
relapsed  into  bewilderment.  May  I  venture  to  dig 
out  from  its  recesses  a  sonnet  which  represents  my 
state  of  mind  at  this  crisis,  when  the  blessing  of  the 
primal  curse  was  not  sufficiently  laid  upon  me  ? — 

"  Unquiet  thoughts,  ye  wind  about  my  heart 
In  many-tangled  webs.     My  daily  toil, 
The  obstinate  cares  of  life,  the  vain  turmoil 

Of  getting  dross  and  spending,  bear  their  part 
In  this  entanglement ;  and  if  my  mind 
Shake  off  its  chains,  and,  free  as  mountain-wind, 

Repose  on  Nature's  pure  maternal  breast, 
Interpreting  her  fresh  and  innocent  looks 
Discoursing  truth  and  love  clearer  than  books, 

Thoughts  are  still  weaving  webs  of  my  unrest. 

O  grant  me,  "Wisdom,  to  behold  thee  near, 
Deep,  clear,  reveal'd  as  one  all-perfect  whole  ; 

Or  give  me  back  the  sleep  to  worldlings  dear — 
Thy  glimmerings  disturb  my  heated  soul." 

Turning  from  metaphysics  to  hard   realities,  and 
looking  upon  the  apparently  interminable   warfare 


142  PASSAGES   OF    A    WORKING   LIFE. 

between  Ignorance  and  Power,  I  could  perceive  very 
few  reconciling  principles  of  social  policy,  or  influen 
tial  mediators  between  the  lawless  and  the  governing 
classes. 

As  early  as  1814  I  had  the  notiori  of  becoming  a 
Popular  Educator.  I  have  a  letter  before  me,  written 
on  the  24th  of  January  of  that  year  to  the  more  than 
friend  to  whom  I  laid  open  all  my  feelings  and  plans, 
in  which  I  said — "  I  want  to  consult  you  about  a 
cheap  work  we  think  of  publishing  in  weekly  num 
bers,  for  the  use  of  the  industrious  part  of  the  com 
munity,  who  have  neither  money  to  buy,  nor  leisure 
to  read,  bulky  and  expensive  books.  It  will  consist 
of  plain  Essays  on  points  of  duty;  the  Evidences  of 
Christianity  ;  Selections  from  the  works  of  the  most 
approved  English  Divines ;  Abstracts  of  the  Laws 
and  Constitution  of  Great  Britain  ;  History ;  Infor 
mation  on  useful  Arts  and  Sciences;  and  Select 
Pieces  of  Entertainment."  The  scheme  was  con 
stantly  in  my  mind ;  and  it  was  often  present  in 
day-drearns  of  a  more  extended  area  of  employment 
than  I  then  occupied,  especially  after  I  had  acquired 
a  little  familiarity  with  the  general  ignorance  of  the 
working  classes,  knew  something  practical  of  their 
habits,  saw  in  some  few  a  desire  for  knowledge,  and 
felt  how  ill  their  intellectual  wants  could  be  supplied. 
Now  and  then,  on  our  market-day,  in  strange  juxta 
position  with  the  brown  earthenware  and  the  coarse 
brushes  of  the  itinerant  dealers,  would  be  placed 
upon  a  stall  the  old  dog's-eared  volume,  and  the  new 
flimsy  numbers  of  the  book-hawker.  I  have  seen 
with  pity  some  aspiring  artisan  spend  his  sixpence 
upon  an  antiquated  manual  of  history  or  geography, 
to  which  he  would  devote  his  brief  and  hard-earned 
hours  of  leisure,  gaining  thus  the  "  two  grains  of 


THE   FIRST   EPOCH.  143 

wheat  hid  in  two  bushels  of  chaff."  Or  I  have 
beheld  some  careful  matron  tempted  to  buy  the 
first  number  of  the  "  Pilgrim's  Progress "  or  the 
"  Book  of  Martyrs " — perhaps  one  less  discreet 
bestowing  her  attention  upon  the  "  History  of  Witch 
craft  "  or  the  "  Lives  of  the  Highwaymen " — each 
arranging  with  the  Canvasser  for  a  monthly  delivery 
till  the  works  should  be  completed,  when  they  would 
find  themselves  in  possession  of  the, dearest  books 
that  came  from  the  press,  even  in  the  palmy  days  of 
expensive  luxuries.  For  the  young,  such  stalls  would 
offer  the  worst  sort  of  temptations  in  sixpenny  Novels 
with  a  coloured  frontispiece ;  whose  very  titles  would 
invite  to  a  familiarity  with  the  details  of  crime — of 
murders  and  adulteries,  of  violence  and  fraud,  of 
licentiousness  revelling  in  London,  and  innocence  be 
trayed  in  the  country — something  much  more  harmful 
than  the  old-world  stories,  the  dreams  and  divina 
tions,  of  the  ancient  chap-books.  Would  the  book- 
hawker  of  that  time,  with  his  costly,  meagre, 
useless,  and  worse  than  useless,  wares,  be  able  to 
satisfy  the  intellectual  cravings  of  any  young  man 
sincerely  desirous  profitably  to  exercise  his  newly- 
acquired  ability  to  read  ? 

I  shall  have  to  relate,  in  the  next  chapter,  how, 
nearly  six  years  after  the  idea  of  a  Cheap  Miscellany 
had  been  gradually  shaping  itself  in  my  habitual 
thoughts,  but  still  without  any  notion  of  an  imme 
diate  practical  result,  I  suddenly  made  my  first  ex 
cursion  into  the  almost  untrodden  field  of  cheap  and 
wholesome  Literature  for  the  People.  The  necessity 
for  some  educational  efforts  to  counteract  the  influence 
of  dangerous  teachers  had  become  more  and  more 
apparent.  The  Government  was  watchful.  It  had 

7 


144  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE: 

the  power  of  repressing  tumult  by  the  military  arm, 
and  of  suspending  the  public  liberty  for  the  discovery 
of  conspirators.  But  it  did  nothing,  and  encouraged 
nothing,  that  indicated  a  paternal  Government.  There 
Were  crafty  men  in  most  towns,  who  stimulated  dis 
content  into  outrage,  and  for  a  sufficient  motive  would 
betray  their  associates.  Such  a  man  was  living  at 
Eton.  Upon  the  trial  of  the  wretched  participators 
in  the  Cato-Street  Conspiracy,  Arthur  Thistlewood 
denounced  this  man,  as  "  the  contriver,  the  instigator, 
the  entrapper."  We  are  told,  from  unquestionable 
authority,  in  the  "  Life  of  Lord  Sidmouth,"  that  the 
principal  informant  of  the  Home-Office  "was  a 
modeller  and  itinerant  vendor  of  images,  named 
Edwards,  who  first  opened  himself  at  Windsor,  as 
early  as  the  month  of  November,  to  Sir  Herbert 
Taylor,  then  occupying  an  important  official  situation 
in  the  establishment  of  George  III."  This  Edwards 
was  not  an  itinerant  vendor  of  images.  I  have 
spoken  with  him  in  his  small  shop  in  the  High 
Street  of  Eton — perhaps  at  the  very  time  when  he 
was  plotting  and  betraying.  He  had  some  ingenuity 
as  a  modeller  ;  and  produced  a  very  tolerable  statu 
ette  of  Dr.  Keate,  in  his  cocked  hat.  His  sale  of 
this  little  model  was  considerable  amongst  the  junior 
boys  of  Eton  College — not  exactly  out  of  reverence 
for  their  head-master  but  as  a  mark  to  be  pelted  at. 
Does  any  copy  exist  of  this  historical  Portrait  ?  The 
subject  of  the  little  bust  anxl  its  modeller  are  both 
historical.  They  each  belong  to  a  state  of  society  of 
which  we  have,  happily,  got  rid.  The  schoolmaster, 
albeit  a  ripe  scholar  and  a  gentleman,  belonged  to 
the  past  times,  when  Education,  like  Government,  was 
conducted  upon  that  system  of  terror  which  was  the 


THE  FIRST   EPOCH.  145 

easiest  system  for  the  administrators.  "  The  greatest 
happiness  for  the  greatest  number,"  whether  of  boys 
or  men,  had  to  be  discovered.  In  the  scholastic,  or 
political,  exaltation  of  the  aristocratic  system,  there 
was  ample  scope  for  the  few  clever  and  aspiring.  To 
these  the  patrician  and  the  pedagogue  graciously 
afforded  encouragement  and  substantial  patronage. 
But  the  mass  of  the  dull,  the  unambitious,  and  'the 
reckless,  were  left  to  their  own  capacity  for  drifting 
into  evil  If  the  misdoers  came  under  the  imperfect 
cognizance  of  the  authorities,  they  were  heavily 
punished  as  a  salutary  terror  to  others.  The  flog 
ging-block  was  the  first  step  to  personal  degra 
dation  in  the  school ;  the  prison,  in  the  State.  If 
these  did  not  answer,  the  school  was  ready  with 
expulsion ;  the  State  with  the  gallows.  One  essen 
tial  difference  there  was  in  the  two  systems.  The 
honour  of  the  Etonian  was  proof  against  spydom  and 
treachery  as  regarded  his  fellows.  In  the  terror- 
stricken  politics  of  that  time  there  was  verge  enough 
for  the  instigator  and  entrapper.  I  have  written 
that  Sir  Herbert  Taylor,  whose  honour  was  unim 
peachable,  was  utterly  incapable  of  suggesting  to  the 
spy  that  he  should  incite  the  wretched  associates  in 
the  conspiracy  to  the  pursuance  of  their  frantic  de 
signs.  ("Popular  History  of  England,"  vol.  viii.  p. 
160.)  Yet,  if  I  remember  rightly  the  face  of  George 
Edwards,  Sir  Herbert  Taylor  might  have  seen  that 
he  was  a  rogue  by  nature.  This  diminutive  animal, 
with  downcast  look  and  stealthy  face,  did  not  calculate 
badly  when  he  approached  one  who,  although  bred  in 
court-habits,  had  a  solid  foundation  of  honesty  which 
made  him  unsuspicious.  Sir  "Herbert  was  a  man  not 
versed  in  the  common  affairs  of  the  outer  world. 


146  PASSAGES   OF    A   WORKING   LIFE! 

He  had  been  the  depository  of  many  a  political  secret 
which  he  could  confide  to  no  friend.  Shy,  painfully 
cautious,  I  have  heard  him  break  down  in  the  most 
simple  address  to  the  electors  when  he  first  stood  for 
Windsor ;  and  yet  a  man  of  real  ability.  Imagine  a 
crafty  mechanic  procuring  access  to  him  at  the 
Castle  as  the  starving  man  of  taste — a  plaster  cast 
of  his  workmanship  carefully  produced — the  guinea 
about  to  be  proffered — and  then  a  whisper  of  some 
terrible  Secret  which  he  could  disclose  at  the  peril 
of  his  life — all  the  outer  evidences  of  contrition,  and 
the  resolve  to  make  a  clean  breast.  Imagine  this 
repeated  day  by  day — with  the  plot-haunted  Lord 
Sidmouth  eagerly  calling  for  more  evidence,  and 
urging  Sir  Herbert  Taylor  to  palter  with  this  devil, 
and  not  hand  him  over  to  the  Privy  Council,  who 
might  have  crushed  the  cockatrice  before  the  egg 
was  hatched.  We  may  imagine  all  this ;  and  yet 
acquit  Sir  Herbert  Taylor  of  a  participation  in  the 
guilt  which  too  often  attaches  to  those,  in  all  ages, 
who  have  fostered  treason  in  waiting  for  overt  acts. 

Before  the  outbreak  of  the  Conspiracy,  an  event 
occurred,  which,  although  not  unexpected,  nor  fraught 
with  consequences  unforeseen,  opened  a  further  cer 
tain  prospect  of  political  disquiet.  The  death  of 
George  the  Third  took  place  on  the  evening  of  Satur 
day,  the  29th  of  January,  1820.  The  Duke  of  Kent, 
his  fourth  son,  had  died  only  six  days  before.  The 
Regent  became  King ;  the  Duke  of  York  was  the 
Presumptive  Heir  to  the  Throne  ;  the  Duke  of 
Clarence  the  next  in  succession.  The  infant  daughter 
of  the  Duke  of  Kent  would  succeed,  if  the  three 
elder  brothers  of  her  father  should  die  without  issue. 
The  position  of  George  the  Fourth  and  Queen  Caro- 


THE    FIRST   EPOCH.  147 

line  might  again  open  that  miserable  "  Book  "  which 
the  public  welfare  required  to  be  for  ever  shut. 

The  Funeral  of  George  the  Third  appeared  to  me 
like  the  close  of  a  long  series  of  reminiscences. 
Windsor  had  to  me  been  associated  with  the  loud 
talk  and  the  good-natured  laugh  of  a  portly  gentle 
man  with  a  star  on  his  breast,  whom  I  sometimes 
ran  against  in  my  childhood  ;  with  a  venerable  per 
sonage,  blind,  but  cheerful,  who  sat  erect  on  a  led 
horse,  as  I  had  s.een  him  in  my  youth  ;  with  the  dim 
idea  of  my  manhood,  that  in  rooms  of  the  Castle 
which  no  curiosity  could  penetrate,  there  sat  an  old 
man  with  a  long  beard,  bereft  of  every  attribute  of 
rank,  who  occasionally  talked  wildly  or  threw  himself 
about  frantically,  and  sometimes  awoke  recollections 
of  happier  days  by  striking  a  few  chords  on  his  piano. 
Then  came  the  final  pageant.  It  was  a  Poem  rather 
than  a  show.  The  Lying-in- State  was  something 
higher  than  undertaker's  art.  As  I  passed  through 
St.  George's  Hall,  I  thought  of  the  last  display  of 
regal  pomp  in  that  room — the  Installation  of  1805 — • 
when  at  the  banquet  the  Sovereign  stood  up  and 
pledged  his  knights,  and  the  knights,  in  full  cups  of 
gold,  invoked  health  and  happiness  on  the  Sovereign. 
The  throne  on  which  George  the  Third  then  sat  was 
now  covered  with  funeral  draperies.  I  went  on  into 
the  King's  Guard-Chamber.  The  room  was  darkened 
— there  was  no  light  but  that  of  the  flickering  wood- 
fires  which  burnt  on  an  ancient  hearth  on  each  side, 
On  the  ground  lay  the  beds  on  which  the  Yeomen  of 
the  Guard  had  slept  during  the  night.  They  stood 
in  their  grand  old  dresses  of  state,  with  broad  scarves 
of  crape  across  their  breasts,  and  crape  on  their 
halberds.  As  the  red  light  of  the  burning  brands 


148  PASSAGES    OF    A    WORKING    LIFE! 

gleamed  on  their  rough  faces,  and  glanced  ever  and 
anon  upon  the  polished  mail  of  the  Black  Prince, 
on  the  bruised  armour  of  the  soldiers  of  the  Plan- 
tagenets,  and  on  the  matchlocks  and  bandoleers  of 
the  early  days  of  modern  warfare,  some  of  the  reality 
of  the  Present  passed  into  visions  of  the  Past.  I 
thought  of  Edward  of  Windsor,  the  great  builder  of 
the  Castle,  deserted  in  his  last  moments.  I  thought 
of  other  "  sad  stories  of  the  deaths  of  kings."  I  came 
back  to  the  immediate  interest  of  the  scene  before 
me,  by  remembering  that  not  one  of  the  long  line  of 
English  sovereigns  before  George  the  Third  had  died 
at  Windsor.  I  passed  on  into  the  chamber  of  death. 
All  here  was  comparatively  modern.  The  hangings 
of  purple  cloth  which  hid  West's  gaudy  pictures  of 
the  Institution  of  the  Order  of  the  Garter  ;  the  wax- 
lights  on  silver  sconces ;  the  pages  standing  by  the 
side  of  the  coffin ;  the  Lord  of  the  Bedchamber  sitting 
at  its  head ;  much  of  this  was  upholstery  work, 
and  did  not  affect  the  imagination,  except  in  con 
nexion  with  the  solemn  silence, — a  stillness  unbroken, 
even  when  rustic  feet,  unused  to  tread  on  carpets, 
passed  by  the  bier,  awe-struck. 

One  such  Royal  Funeral  as  I  had  previously  seen 
was  not  essentially  different  from  another.  The  out 
door  ceremonial  at  the  interment  of  George  the  Third 
was  not  readily  to  be  forgotten.  It  was  a  walking 
procession.  The  night  was  dark  and  misty.  Vast 
crowds  were  assembled  in  the  Lower  Ward  of  the 
Castle,  hushed  and  expectant.  A  platform  had  been 
erected  from  the  Grand  Entrance  of  the  Castle  to 
the  Western  Entrance  of  St.  George's  Chapel.  It 
was  lined  on  each  side  by  a  single  file  of  the  Guards. 
A  signal-rocket  is  fired.  Every  soldier  lights  a  torch, 


THE   FIRST   EPOCH.  149 

and  the  massive  towers  and  the  delicate  pinnacles 
stand  out  in  the  red  glare.  Minute  guns  are  now 
heard  in  the  distance.  Will  those  startling  voices 
never  cease  ?  Expectation  is  at  its  height.  A  flourish 
of  trumpets  is  heard,  and  then  the  roll  of  muffled 
drums.  A  solemn  dirge  comes  upon  the  ear,  nearer 
and  nearer.  The  funeral-car  glides  slowly  along  the 
platform  without  any  perceptible  aid  from  human  or 
mechanical  power.  The  dirge  ceases  for  a  little  while ; 
and  then  again  the  trumpets  and  the  muffled  drums 
sound  alternately.  Again  the  dirge — softly  breath 
ing  flutes  and  clarionets  mingling  their  notes  with 
"  the  mellow  horn  " — and  then  a  dead  silence  ;  for 
the  final  resting-place  is  reached.  Heralds  and  ban 
ners  and  escutcheons  touch  not  the  heart.  But 
the  Music!  That  is  something  grander  than  the 
picturesque. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

MAY  trace  my  first  venture,  as  an  Editor 
and  Publisher,  into  the  dimly -descried 
region  of  Popular  Literature,  to  a  paper 
which  I  wrote  in  the  Windsor  Express  of 
December  11,  18] 9,  headed  "Cheap  Publications." 
In  this  article  I  set  forth,  as  one  of  the  most  re 
markable,  and  in  some  degree  most  fearful  "signs 
of  the  times,"  the  excessive  spread  of  cheap  publi 
cations  almost  exclusively  directed  to  the  united 
object  of  inspiring  hatred  of  the  Government  and 
contempt  of  the  Religious  Institutions  of  the  country. 
I  noticed  the  singleness  of  purpose,  in  connexion  with 
the  commercial  rivalry,  with  which  this  object  had 
been  pursued.  With  Cobbett's  "Twopenny  Register" 
a  race  was  run  in  London  by  Wooller's  "  Black 
Dwarf,"  "  The  Republican,"  "  The  Medusa's  Head/' 
"  The  Cap  of  Liberty,"  and  many  more  of  the  same 
stamp  ;  whilst  every  large  manufacturing  town  had 
its  own  peculiar  vehicle  of  seditious  and  infidel 
opinions.  I  had  mentioned  in  a  previous  article 
that  a  Manchester  paper  was  advertising  a  catalogue 
of  books,  occupying  one  column,  nearly  the  whole 
of  which,  aiming  at  the  overthrow  of  Christianity, 
"  are  all  published  in  numbers,"  at  a  price  accessible 
even  to  the  unhappy  mechanics  who  labour  sixteen 
hours  a-day  for  less  than  a  shilling.  I  continued 
my  essay  on  "  Cheap  Publications  "  by  adverting  to 


THE    FIRST    EPOCH.  151 

the  rapid  advances  that  had  been  made  during  the 
previous  twenty  years  in  the  Education  of  the  Poor, 
upon  systems  of  instruction  under  which  a  consider 
able  proportion  of  young  men  moving  in  the  working 
classes  had  grown  up.  It  was  amongst  these  persons, 
possessing  a  talent  unknown  to  their  fathers — per 
haps  a  little  ardent  and  presumptuous,  and  certainly 
craving  after  information  with  a  passionate  desire 
that  might  become  either  a  blessing  or  a  curse — that 
cheap  publications  had  been  most  widely  diffused. 
The  anarchists  of  that  day  were  a  subtle  and  acute 
race.  They  had  watched  the  progress  of  knowledge 
amongst  the  people.  Their  publications  teemed  with 
allusions  to  the  increased  intelligence  of  the  working 
classes.  "There  is  a  new  power  in  society,  and  they 
have  combined  to  give  that  power  a  direction.  The 
work  must  be  taken  out  of  their  hands." 

After  the  lapse  of  more  than  forty  years,  I  feel 
that  a  desire  to  exhibit  some  characteristics  of  the 
tentative  process  by  which  useful  knowledge  was 
then  to  be  diffused  will  excuse  me  for  giving  a  longer 
extract  from  this  essay. 

"  We  have  already  said,  and  it  is  perhaps  necessary 
to  repeat  it,  that  there  is  a  new  power  entrusted  to 
the  great  mass  of  the  working  people,  and  that  it  is 
daily  becoming  of  wider  extent  and  greater  impor 
tance.  It  has  been  most  wisely  and  providently 
agreed  to  give  that  power  one  principal  direction  by 
interweaving  it  with  religious  knowledge  and  feel 
ings,  that  they  might  thus  blend  with  the  whole  cur 
rent  of  mature  thought,  and  sanctify  the  possession 
of  the  keys  of  learning  to  useful  and  innocent  ends. 
We  are  yet  disposed  to  think  that  this  is  not  all 
which  the  creation  of  such  a  new  and  extraordinary 


152  PASSAGES   OF   A    WORKING   LIFE; 

power  demands.  Knowledge  must  have  its  worldly 
as  well  as  its  spiritual  range ;  it  looks  towards 
Heaven,  but  it  treads  upon  the  earth.  The  mass 
of  useful  books  are  not  accessible  to  the  poor; 
newspapers,  with  their  admixture  of  good  and  evil, 
seldom  find  their  way  into  the  domestic  circle  of  the 
labourer  or  artizan ;  the  tracts  which  pious  persons 
distribute  are  exclusively  religious,  and  the  tone  of 
these  is  often  either  fanatical  or  puerile.  The  'two 
penny  trash/  as  it  is  called,  has  seen  farther,  with 
the  quick  perception  of  avarice  or  ambition,  into  the 
intellectual  wants  of  the  working-classes.  It  was 
just  because  there  was  no  healthful  food  for  their 
newly-created  appetite,  that  sedition  and  infidelity 
have  been  so  widely  disseminated.  The  writers 
employed  in  this  work,  and  their  leader  and  prototype, 
Cobbett,  in  particular,  show  us  pretty  accurately  the 
sort  of  talent  which  is  required  to  provide  this  health 
ful  food.  '  Fas  est  ab  hoste  doceri.'  They  state  an 
argument  with  great  clearness  and  precision ;  they 
divest  knowledge  of  all  its  pedantic  incumbrances ; 
they  make  powerful  appeals  to  the  deepest  passions  of 
the  human  heart.  Let  a  man  of  genius  set  out  upon 
these  principles,  in  the  task  of  building  up  a  mere 
popular  literature  than  we  possess  ;  and  let  him  add, 
what  the  seditious  and  infidel  writers  have  thrown 
away,  the  power  of  directing  the  affections  to  what 
is  reverend  and  beautiful  in  national  manners 
and  institutions — tender  and  subduing  in  pure 
and  domestic  associations — sacred  and  glowing  in 
what  belongs  to  the  high  and  mysterious  destiny 
of  the  human  mind — satisfying  and  consoling  in  the 
divine  revelations  of  that  destiny, — and  then,  were 
such  a  system  embodied  in  one  grand  benevolent 


THE   FIRST   EPOCH.  153 

design  supplementary  to  the  Instruction  of  the  Poor, 
National  Education,  we  sincerely  think,  would  go 
on  diffusing  its  blessings  over  every  portion  of  the 
land,  and  calling  up  a  truly  English  spirit  wherever 
it  penetrated.  Neglect  this  provision,  and  we  fear 
that  no  penal  laws  will  prevent  the  craving  after 
knowledge  from  being  improperly  gratified,  and  then 
— but  the  evidence  of  the  danger  is  before  us." 

The  publication  of  this  article  led  to  an  intimacy 
between  Mr.  Locker  and  myself,  which  I  count 
amongst  the  most  gratifying  recollections  of  my  life. 
Within  twenty-four  hours  of  its  appearance  he  called 
upon  me  ;  and  we  very  soon  agreed  to  be  joint 
editors  of  a  Monthly  Serial  work,  intended,  in  some 
degree,  to  supply  the  want  I  had  pointed  out.  Within 
a  fortnight  our  plans  were  matured  ;  and  in  the 
"Express"  of  Christmas-day  it  was  announced,  that 
on  the  1st  of  February,  1820,  would  appear  No.  I.  of 
"  The  Plain  Englishman." 

When  I  first  had  the  happiness  of  acquiring  the 
friendship  of  Mr.  Locker  he  was  in  his  forty-second 
year.  His  life,  before  he  came  to  reside  at  Windsor, 
had  been  one  of  large  and  varied  experience.  The 
names  of  Edward  Hawke  were  given  to  him  in 
honour  of  the  illustrious  officer  under  whom  his 
father  had  served  in  the  middle  of  the  last  century. 
In  his  charming  memoir  of  Admiral  Locker,  in 
"  The  Plain  Englishman,"  he  dwells  with  just  pride 
upon  the  attachment  of  our  great  naval  hero  to  his 
father.  "  Horatio  Nelson,  to  the  last  hour  of  his 
life,  regarded  him  with  the  affection  of  a  son  and 
with  the  respect  of  a  pupil."  After  the  battle  of  the 
Nile  he  did  not  forget  his  old  commander  amidst  the 
flatteries  and  seductions  which  followed  his  victory. 


154  PASSAGES    OF    A   WORKING   LIFE: 

"I  have  been  your  scholar,"  he  wrote;  "  it  is  you 
who  taught  me  to  board  a  French  man-of-war,  by 
your  conduct  in  the  Experiment.  It  is  you  who 
always  said,  '  Lay  a  Frenchman  close,  and  you  will 
beat  him.5"  The  private  life  of  such  a  man,  as 
glanced  at  by  his  son,  is  very  interesting. 

My  friend  had  the  advantage  of  an  Eton  educa 
tion  ;  but  he  was  destined  for  an  active  rather  than  a 
learned  life.  He  was  in  a  government-office  till  he 
was  twenty-three,  and  then  became  Private  Secre 
tary  to  Sir  Edward  Pellew.  When  his  admiral 
was  commander-in-chief  in  the  Mediterranean,  Mr. 
Locker  discharged  the  arduous  duties  of  Secretary 
to  the  Fleet.  He  had  a  printing-press  on  board  the 
flag-ship  which  materially  assisted  his  labours.  In 
his  official  capacity  he  visited  Napoleon  at  Elba,  a 
few  days  after  the  fallen  Emperor  had  taken  posses 
sion  of  his  narrow  territory.  His  narrative  of  their 
conversations  is  exceedingly  interesting.  ("Plain 
Englishman,"  voL  iii.  p.  475.)  After  the  peace,  Mr. 
Locker  married,  and  came  to  reside  at  Windsor. 
From  the  period  when  our  intimate  acquaintance 
commenced,  I  enjoyed  his  friendship  for  a  quarter  of 
a  century.  He  was  to  me  an  example  of  a  true  gen 
tleman — intelligent,  well-read,  energetic,  charitable, 
religious,  tolerant — such  as  I  had  scarcely  met  in  the 
limited  society  in  which  I  lived  when  I  first  knew  him. 
He  soon  removed  from  Windsor,  to  become  the  Se 
cretary  of  Greenwich  Hospital,  and  afterwards  the 
Resident  Civil  Commissioner.  His  hospitable  home 
was  always  open  to  me  ;  his  active  friendship  was 
never  withheld  ;  his  judicious  advice  was  my  stay  in 
many  a  doubt  and  difficulty. 

For  three  years  Mr.  Locker  and  I  worked  together, 


THE    FIRST    EPOCH.  155 

with  a  cordiality  never  disturbed,  in  conducting  "The 
Plain  Englishman."  Our  views  were  set  forth  in  an 
Introduction,  which  I  wrote.  Much  of  this  composition 
had  necessarily  regard  to  the  peculiar  danger  of  that 
period — the  irreligion  and  disloyalty  that  were  asso 
ciated,  or  seemed  to  be  associated,  with  the  spread  of 
education.  We  were  prepared  to  meet  this  danger  in  an 
honest  spirit :  "We  think  highly  of  the  understandings 
of  the  people  of  our  country.  We  shall  address  them, 
therefore,  not  as  children,  but  as  men  and  women. 
If  we  combat  Infidelity,  we  shall  look  for  our  argu 
ments  in  those  volumes  which  have  made  the  deepest 
impression  on  the  wise  and  learned.  If  we  would 
disprove  the  falsehoods  which  designing  persons  have 
propagated  against  our  Government,  we  shall  repub- 
lish  those  reasons  for  a  reverence  of  its  forms  and 
institutions  which  have  convinced  the  ablest  minds, 
and  shown  them  its  practical  excellence.  If  we  would 
awaken  all  the  noble  feelings  which  belong  to  the 
real  patriot,  we  shall  go  back  into  the  chronicles  of 
old  for  a  history  of  those  deeds  which  rouse  the  spirit 
'  as  with  a  trumpet.'  We  shall  not  conceal  anything 
or  distort  anything.  We  shall  enable  all  who  seek 
for  knowledge  to  judge  for  themselves." 

This  plain  avowal  did  not  receive  the  approbation 
of  the  constituted  authorities  for  making  the  people 
wiser  and  better.  The  Christian  Knowledge  Society 
was,  at  that  period,  the  representative  of  what  was 
supine,  timid,  and  time-serving  in  the  Church.  That 
venerable  corporation  had  not  yet  roused  itself  into 
activity,  to  meet  the  new  wants  created  by  the  grow 
ing  ability  to  read.  It  had  a  depository  of  books,  in 
which  were  to  be  found  antiquated  works  on  the  Evi 
dences,  such  as  that  of  the  learned  and  amiable  Bishop 


156  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE: 

Wilson,  entitled  "  Instructions  for  the  Indians," — 
so  low  was  the  intellectual  power  of  his  countrymen 
rated  by  the  good  prelate.  Many  new  compilations 
had  they  in  their  store,  through  which  they  hoped  to 
meet  the  evils  of  the  time,  by  talking  to  working 
people  as  if  they  were  as  innocent  of  all  knowledge, 
both  of  good  and  evil,  as  in  the  days  when  their 
painstaking  mothers  committed  them  to  the  edifying 
instruction  of  the  village  schoolmistress,  to  be  taught 
to  sit  still  and  hold  their  tongues,  forty  in  a  close 
room,  for  three  hours  together,  at  the  moderate  price 
of  twopence  each  per  week.  They  meddled  not 
with  dangerous  Science  or  more  dangerous  History. 
Poetry  and  all  works  of  Imagination  they  eschewed. 
Over  their  collection  of  dry  bones  the  orthodox  pub 
lishers,  Messrs.  Kivington,  presided.  My  brother- 
editor  believed  that  this  time-honoured  Society  would 
willingly  lend  a  helping  hand  to  our  well-meant 
endeavour.  Their  booksellers  agreed  to  be  our  Lon 
don  publishers.  But  High-Church  frowned  ;  and  we 
were  driven  to  the  Low-Church  rivals  of  the  shop 
'that  had  long  had  "the  Bible  and  Crown"  over 
its  door.  We  had  fallen  into  the  common  error  of 
the  infancy  of  Popular  Knowledge,  in  believing  that 
any  scheme  for  its  diffusion  could  be  successful 
which  was  not  immediately  addressed  to  the  people 
themselves,  without  in  any  degree  depending  upon 
the  patronage  of  gratuitous,  and  therefore  suspicious, 
distribution,  by  the  superiors  of  those  for  whose 
perusal  works  of  a  popular  character  are  devised.  It 
was  well  for  us  that  we  got  out  of  the  shackles  of  this 
Society,  which  was  then  wholly  ignorant  of  the  in 
tellectual  wants  and  capabilities  of  the  working  popu 
lation  ;  and  would  have  insisted  upon  maintaining 


THE   FIRST    EPOCH.  157  ' 

the  habit  of  talking  to  thinking  beings,  and  for  the 
most  part  to  very  acute  thinking  beings,  in  the 
language  of  the  nursery  —  the  besetting  weakness 
of  the  learned  and  aristocratic,  from  the  very  first 
moment  that  they  began  to  prattle  about  bestowing 
the  blessings  of  education.  If  we  were  tolerated  in 
the  adoption  of  a  higher  tone,  we  must  still  have 
assumed  the.  attitude  of  writers  who  had  come  down 
from  their  natural  elevation  to  impart  a  small  portion 
of  their  wisdom  to  persons  of  very  inferior  under 
standing.  "  The  Schoolmaster  was  abroad," — and  so 
was  Cobbett.  As  Scarlett  always  won  a  verdict  by 
getting  close  to  the  confiding  twelve  as  if  he  were  a 
thirteenth  juryman,  so  Cobbett  forced  his  "Register" 
into  every  workshop  and  every  cottage,  not  only  by 
using  the  plainest  English,  but  by  identifying  him 
self  with  the  every-day  thoughts — the  passions,  the 
prejudices — of  those  whom  he  addressed.  It  was  very 
long  before  any  of  us  who  aspired  to  be  popular 
instructors  learnt  the  secret  of  his  influence,  and 
could  exhibit  the  "vigour  of  the  bow"  without  "the 
venom  of  the  shaft." 

The  title-page  of  "The  Plain  Englishman"  some 
what  too  prominently  described  the  work  as  "compre 
hending  Original  Compositions,  and  Selections  from 
the  best  Writers,  under  the  heads  of  The  Christian 
Monitor ;  The  British  Patriot ;  The  Fireside  Com 
panion."  I  look  back  upon  this  division  of  subjects 
as  a  mistake.  In  1832,  at  the  commencement  of  rny 
editorship  of  "The  Penny  Magazine,"  Dr.  Arnold 
wrote  to  Mr.  W.  Tooke,  the  Treasurer  of  the  Useful 
Knowledge  Society,  to  speak  in  terms  of  somewhat 
extravagant  commendation  of  a  short  article  on 
Mirabeau  which  I  had  written;  and  to  express  his 


158  PASSAGES    OF    A   WORKING   LIFE! 

opinion  that  the  infusion  of  religious  feeling  into  the 
treatment  of  secular  subjects  was  far  more  valuable 
for  popular  instruction  than  any  direct  exhortations.* 
In  "The  Plain  Englishman"  it  was  perhaps  essential 
to  our  objects  to  have  separate  papers  on  religious 
matters  ;  but  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  they  lost 
much  of  their  usefulness  by  standing  separate  from 
those  of  "The  British  Patriot"  and  "The  Fireside 
Companion."  In  the  same  way  the  historical  and 
constitutional  articles  of  the  second  section  would 
have  had  a  much  better  chance  of  being  read  if  they 
had  been  mixed  up  with  the  third  miscellaneous 
division.  At  any  rate,  as  we  soon  became  aware,  our 
Serial  stood  very  little  chance  of  an  extensive  natural 
sale  amongst  the  young  and  newly  half-educated.  A 
Weekly  Penny  or  Twopenny  Sheet,  such  as  I  had 
proposed  in  1812,  might  have  had  a  better  chance  of 
success,  but  still  a  very  small  chance.  I  could  not 
have  rendered  it  attractive  by  pictures,  in  the  then 
condition  of  wood-engraving,  without  a  greater  cost 
than  the  probable  circulation  of  such  a  work  would 
have  justified.  The  good  engravers  were  few,  and  the 
Art  had  been  almost  lost  since  the  death  of  Bewick. 
For  ordinary  purposes  of  book-illustration  it  was 
scarcely  used.  "  The  Mirror,"  established  about  that 
time,  was  slightly  but  very  indifferently  illustrated. 
Its  laudable  endeavours  to  furnish  information  and 
amusement,  without  stirring  up  the  passions  of  the 
people,  were  not  crowned  with  any  signal  success. 
The  great  artist  of  half  a  century,  whose  etchings 
and  whose  designs  for  wood  present  that  rare  union 
of  truth  and  fancy  which  has  made  Hogaith  im- 

*  Life  of  Dr.  Arnold. 


THE   FIRST   EPOCH.  159 

mortal,  was  at  that  time  enlisted  in  the  work  of 
political  caricature,  in  which  he  was  the  creative 
spirit  whilst  another  gave  the  rough  idea.  When 
William  Hone  and  George  Cruikshank  met  in  1820, 
to  devise  "The  Political  House  that  Jack  built," 
there  was  a  veracious  man  present  who  has  described 
to  me  one  of  the  amusing  scenes  of  which  he  was  a 
witness.  The  obscure  publisher  of  "Parodies"  in 
1817, — who,  with  his  bag  of  books  spread  on  the 
table  of  the  King's  Bench,  had  done  battle  against 
the  ablest  and  boldest  judge  of  the  time,  and  had 
driven  him  from  the  field, — was  now  a  public  cha 
racter.  Whatever  little  stinging  pamphlets  he  issued 
were  sure  to  find  their  way  over  the  land.  But 
assurance  of  success  was  made  doubly  sure  when  he 
had  enlisted  Cruikshank  in  the  cause  which  to  them 
appeared  resistance  to  oppression  and  vindication  of 
innocence.  Three  friends — fellow  conspirators,  if  you 
like — are  snugly  ensconced  in  a  private  room  of  a 
well-accustomed  tavern.  Hone  produces  his  scheme 
for  "  The  House  that  Jack  built."  He  reads  some  of 
his  doggerel  lines.  The  author  wants  a  design  for  an 
idea  that  is  clear  enough  in  words,  but  is  beyond  the 
range  of  pictorial  representation.  The  artist  pooh- 
poohs.  The  bland  publisher  is  pertinacious,  but  not 
dictatorial.  My  friend,  Alfred  Fry,  the  most  earnest, 
straightforward,  and  argumentative  of  men,  is  no 
greater  judge  of  the  limits  of  Art  than  the  man  who 
had  the  best  of  the  discussion  with  Lord  Ellen- 
borough  but  cannot  vanquish  or  convince  George 
Cruikshank.  "Wait  a  moment,"  says  the  artist.  The 
wine — perhaps  the  grog — is  on  the  table.  He  dips 
his  finger  in  his  glass.  He  rapidly  traces  wet  lines 
on  the  mahogany.  A  single  figure  starts  into  life. 


160  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE: 

Two  or  three  smaller  figures  come  out  around  the 
first  head  and  trunk — a  likeness  in  its  grotesqueness. 
The  publisher  cries  "Hoorah."  The  looker-on  is 
silent  after  this  rapid  manifestation  of  a  great  power. 
A  pen-and-ink  sketch  is  completed  on  the  spot.  The 
bottle  circulates  briskly  or  the  rummers  are  replen 
ished.  Politics  are  the  theme,  whether  of  agreement 
or  disputation.  Alfred  Fry  quotes  Greek,  which 
neither  of  his  auditors  understand,  but  that  is  no 
matter.  There  is  one  upon  whom  his  learning  will 
not  be  thrown  away.  He  gets  admission  to  the 
House  of  Lords  during  the  Queen's  trial,  and  passes 
on  to  Mr.  Denman  a  slip  of  paper  which  contains  a 
sentence  from  Athenseus.  The  apt  quotation  appears 
in  the  official  Minutes  of  the  Proceedings.  This 
recollection  of  Cruikshank  and  his  friends  may  seem 
out  of  place ;  but  it  is  not  wholly  without  relation  to 
the  slow  progress  of  my  "  Plain  Englishman."  The 
violent  politics  of  that  unhappy  time  were  all- 
absorbing.  The  newspapers  furnished  the  most 
stimulating  reading.  Even  Cobbett,  with  his  denun 
ciations  of  boroughmongers  and  bank-directors,  was 
little  heeded.  The  pamphlet-buyers  rushed  to  Hone. 
"  The  House  that  Jack  built "  ran  through  forty- 
seven  editions  ;  "  iThe  Queen's  Matrimonial  Ladder," 
forty-four;  "Non  mi  ricordo,"  thirty  one.  London, 
and  indeed  all  the  kingdom,  had  gone  mad.  It 
would  be  very  long  before  the  people  would  listen  to 
the  small  voice  of  popular  knowledge,  which  pos 
sessed  no  ephemeral  influence,  and  which  was  utterly 
drowned  in  the  howlings  of  that  storm. 

In  such  a  heaving  up  of  the  crust  of  society  by  the 
volcanic  fires  below,  it  was  not  very  likely  that  the 
benevolent  optimism  of  our  Monthly  Serial  would 


THE    F1EST    EPOCH.  161 

produce  much  influence  upon  the  peasant  and  the 
mechanic,  each  designated  by  us  as  "The  Plain 
Englishman  of  the  Working  Classes."  Looking  at 
the  "  burning  fiery  furnace  "  that  we  have  all  walked 
through  since  that  period,  it  seems  to  me  something 
like  hypocrisy  when  I  wrote,  in  1820,  of  the  Plain 
Englishman  who  felt,  if  he  could  not  describe,  the 
foundations  of  his  respectability.  But  it  was  not 
hypocrisy.  I  believed  what  I  wrote  when  I  talked 
of  "  the  happiness  peculiar  to  the  course  of  peaceful 
labour ;"  of  "the  security  which  rendered  him  master 
of  his  own  possessions,  however  small ;"  of  "  the  kind 
look  or  the  benevolent  visit  from  his  wealthier  neigh 
bour,  which  cheered  him  in  his  humble  station."  It 
certainly  was  not  true, — as  regarded  the  majority  of 
those  who  earned  their  bread  by  the  sweat  of  their 
brow, — that  the  Plain  Englishman  "viewed  the  dif 
ference  of  ranks  without  envy,  convinced  that,  as 
subjects  of  the  same  laws,  sharers  in  the  same  infir 
mities,  and  heirs  of  the  same  salvation,  the  rich  and 
the  poor  of  England  w^ere  all  equal."  *  I  followed  in 
the  wake  of  men  most  anxious  for  the  welfare  of  the 
lower  classes,  but. who  were  at  that  time  convinced 
that  the  first  and  greatest  object  of  all  popular  ex 
hortation  was  to  preach  from  the  text  of  St.  James, 
"  Study  to  be  quiet."  There  never  was  a  more  sound 
political  economist  than  Dr.  John  Bird  Sumner — 
never  one  who  took  a  more  enlarged  view  of  the 
necessity  of  looking  at  economical  questions  over  a 
wider  area  than  that  which  was  bounded  by  the 
material  "  wealth  of  nations."  He  was  amongst  our 
first  contributors.  His  "  Conversations  with  an  Un- 

*  "  Plain  Englishman,"  vol.  i.     Introduction. 


163  PASSAGES    OF   A   WORKING   LIFE! 

believer/'  or  "  Dialogues  between  Eusebius  and  Alci- 
phron  "  may  be  regarded  as  elegant  cooling  mixtures 
such  as  a  timid  physician  might  prescribe  to  a  patient 
in  a  burning  fever.  He  made  no  attempt  to  grapple 
stoutly  with  the  arguments  of  the  "  Unbeliever,"  as 
he  would  probably  have  done  with  the  opinions  of 
the  "  Communist."  He  meets  the  Unbeliever  in  the 
mild  persuasive  spirit  which  was  the  index  of  his  own 
character — no  assumption  of  superiority,  no  ana 
themas.  This  tone  was  perhaps  scarcely  suited  to 
the  time  ;  but,  after  all,  the  lessons  of  the  Christian 
teacher  must  win  before  they  can  convince.  The 
heart  must  be  touched  before  the  reason  can  be 
subjected.  Even  the  style  that  borders  upon  the 
poetical  may  allure,  and  then  hold  captive,  those, 
especially  the  young,  whom  a  severer  logic  might 
repel.  Taylor  has  probably  made  more  converts 
than  Barrow.  Nothing  can  be  prettier  than  the 
following  opening  of  a  "Conversation,"  as  he  was 
returning  from  his  parish  church  on  Christmas-day, 
and  fell  in  with  an  acquaintance  whom  he  knew  to 
entertain  what  he  called  free  thoughts  on  the  subject 
of  Revelation  :  "  I  always  pity  you,  Alciphron,  and 
particularly  at  the  present  season.  The  air  of  cheer 
fulness  which  so  generally  prevails,  and  makes  even 
winter  smile,  must  fill  you  with  melancholy  when  it 
reminds  you  of  the  errors  of  your  fellow-creatures. 
The  village  steeple,  which  from  time  immemorial  has 
been  accustomed  to  proclaim  the  message  of  glad 
tidings,  must  appear  to  you  to  usher  in  the  reign  of 
superstition;  since  bells  repeat  what  the  hearers 
think.  No  sight  is  more  welcome  to  my  eye  than 
that  of  those  knots  of  country  people,  as  they  wind 
among  the  hills  which  intercept  the  spire  from  our 


THE    FIRST    EPOCH.  163 

view,  returning  in  family  groups  from  the  church 
where  their  fathers  and  forefathers  have  been  long 
used  to  celebrate  the  assurance  of  God's  good-will 
towards  men.  It  brings  a  thousand  delightful  asso 
ciations  to  my  mind.  You,  the  meanwhile,  must  be 
inwardly  lamenting  such  idle  commemoration  of  the 
origin  of  their  bondage  and  their  error.  To-day,  too, 
the  sun  re-appearing  after  a  season  of  unusual  gloomi 
ness  and  severity  assorts  with  the  impressions  on  my 
mind.  The  clouds  and  darkness  which  had  long 
shrouded  the  throne  of  God  seem  suddenly  dispersed ; 
the  scene  is  lighted  up  and  brightens ;  but  yet  it  is 
the  sunshine  of  winter  still.  For  you,  and  such  as . 
you,  who  close  your  eyes  against  the  light — and 
many  others  who  hate  the  light  because  their  deeds 
are  evil, — spread  a  gloom  over  the  distance,  and,  like 
the  patches  of  snow  which  lie  unmelted  on  the  hills, 
remind  us  that  it  is  a  wintry  world  after  all."  Alci- 
phron  argues  that  Revelation  is  an  imposture,  and 
that  "an  army  of  well-paid  priests  is  leagued  together 
to  keep  up  the  deceit."  Eusebius  answers  him  thus : 
"  So  you  have  really  been  persuaded  by  Paine  and 
his  disciples  to  imagine  that  a  Christian  minister,  for 
the  sake  of  lucre,  imposes  on  the  credulity  of  his 
hearers  a  system  of  Religion  which  he  knows  to  be 
without  foundation !  I  little  expected  an  insinuation 
like  this  from  any  adversary  less  ignorant  than 
Carlile,  or  less  vulgar  than  Paine.  But,  to  meet  you 
here  also,  you  forget  that  the  benefices  which  engage 
your  well-paid  army  to  practise  this  baseness,  do 
not  average  a  hundred  pounds  per  annum ;  you 
forget  how  many  follow  their  profession  to  their  grave, 
without  ever  obtaining  one  of  the  lowest  of  its  prizes. 
Would  not  the  same  education  and  the  same  talents. 


164  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING    LIFE: 

exerted  in  any  other  profession,  ensure  a  much 
higher  reward  ?  Depend  upon  it,  if  the  clergy  had  no 
other  than  a  temporal  inducement  to  maintain  the 
Christian  faith,  it  would  not  continue  twenty  years." 
Before  our  excellent  contributor  had  finished  his 
career  of  piety  and  active  goodness  as  archbishop, 
he  would  have  had  a  perfect  experience  that  the 
Alciphrons  never  point  their  attacks  upon  the  well- 
paid  army  by  the  example  of  the  under-paid  curate 
of  a  hundred  a  year.  In  that  great  lottery  the  prizes 
are  sufficient  to  keep  even  the  worldly  aspirants  sted- 
fast,  as  Sydney  Smith  wisely  and  wittily  argued. 
And  yet  such  a  man  as  the  late  Archbishop  of  Can 
terbury  might  win  the  highest  prize,  and  still  be  as 
spiritually-minded  as  he  was  when  thus  writing  in 
his  pretty  parish  of  Mapledurham.  The  mildness 
with  which  the  commonplace  objection  is  met 
might  have  the  effect  of  leading  some,  step  by  step, 
to  go  deeper  into  the  great  question,  glad  to  have 
their  surface  doubts  cleared  away  with  a  tender 
hand. 

The  "Lectures  on  the  Bible  and  Liturgy"  contri 
buted  to  "  The  Plain  Englishman "  by  Mr.  Locker, 
were  the  substance  of  a  course  of  familiar  Addresses 
delivered  by  him  to  his  shipmates  on  board  the  Ca 
ledonia,  when  he  was  Secretary  of  the  Mediterranean 
Fleet.  They  have  been  published  in  a  separate 
volume,  and  well  deserve  to  hold  a  place  in  an  ele 
mentary  library  of  Christian  instruction  ;  for  they  are 
realities.  They  were  addressed  to  sailors  who  re 
quired  no  subtle  arguments  of  doctrine  to  induce 
them  to  be  religious.  They  were  plain,  earnest, 
affectionate.  They  must  have  touched  the  heart  of 
"  Poor  Jack,"  like  Dibdin's  transfusion  into  nautical 


THE   FIRST   EPOCH.  165 

language  of  Hamlet's  "  there's  a  special  Providence 
in  the  fall  of  a  sparrow."  They  have  passed  into 
oblivion.  Our  theology,  like  our  novels,  has  become 
sensational. 

Amongst  our  intimate  and  constant  contributors 
was  a  scholar  whose  memory  I  regard  with  sincere 
respect  —  the  Rev.  J.  M.  Turner,  who  succeeded 
Daniel  Wilson  as  bishop  of  Calcutta.  His  papers 
on  the  "Naval  Victories"  are  capital  summaries 
of  those  great  triumphs  which  kept  England  safe 
in  the  midst  of  dangers  that  looked  overwhelming. 
When  I  knew  him  he  was  private  tutor  at  Eton 
to  the  sons  of  Lord  Londonderry.  In  religion, 
tolerant ;  in  politics,  almost  liberal.  I  often  met  him 
at  Mr.  Locker's  table  at  Greenwich  ;  and  never  left 
him  without  feeling  that  he  was  a  friend  to  make 
one  wiser  and  better.  We  passed  into  different 
spheres  of  exertion.  His  last  letter  to  me  was  one  of 
encouragement  to  go  on  with  a  bolder  attempt  at 
Popular  Instruction  than  our  "Plain  Englishman." 
To  our  "  British  Patriot "  we  had  a  valuable  contri 
butor  in  a  personal  friend — John  Steer,  who  was 
diligently  studying  as  a  pupil  of  Mr.  Chitty.  His 
mastery  of  the  principles  of  jurisprudence  and  the 
practice  of  the  courts  was  evidenced  in  his  excellent 
papers  on  "Popular  Law."  His  valuable  life  was 
cut  short  before  he  reached  that  eminence  at  the 
Bar  which  seemed  fairly  within  his  power  to  attain. 

For  myself,  I  worked  with  hearty  good  will  at  our 
Miscellany.  It  took  me  out  of  the  region  of  political 
controversy,  for  which  I  had  no  great  love  at  any 
time,  and  especially  in  times  when  it  was  very  diffi 
cult  to  be  impartial  and  sincere.  A  journalist  in  my 
position  was  between  the  Scylla  of  bad  government, 


166  PASSAGES    OF    A    WORKING    LIFE: 

and  the  Charybdis  of  no  government.  In  "  The 
Plain  Englishman"  it  was  impossible  to  allude  to 
the  necessity  of  any  Parliamentary  Reform  ;  for  the 
Radical  Reformers  were  sending  their  foxes  all  over 
the  country,  with  lighted  brands  at  their  tails,  to 
burn  the  standing  corn  and  the  vineyards  and  olives. 
We  were  friends  of  Catholic  Emancipation,  and  yet 
we  dared  not  advocate  so  vital  a  change  without  a 
dread  that  the  Church  of  England  would  lose  its 
anchorage.  The  scandalous  abuses  of  the  Irish 
Church  could  not  be  spoken  of;  although  I  have 
heard  one  of  the  ablest  of  our  reverend  associates 
devoutly  wish  that  the  rope  could  be  cut  by  which 
the  gallant  ship  towed  the  overladen  and  rotten  hulk 
through  a  perilous  sea.  I  had  to  write  a  "  Monthly 
Retrospect  of  Public  Affairs/'  in  which  the  first  neces 
sity  was  caution.  For  a  year  or  more  all  "  Public 
Affairs  "  were  seething  in  a  witch's  cauldron,  with  the 
scum  uppermost.  I  had  to  write,  here  and  else 
where,  about  the  Queen's  trial.  I  said  truly,  "  We 
have  restrained  ourselves  from  the  expression,  almost 
from  the  admission,  of  any  decided  conviction  in  this 
matter."  But  not  the  less  did  I  feel  that  Caroline  of 
Brunswick  was  an  injured  wife,  although  I  could  not 
doubt  that  she  was  a  depraved  woman.  Why,  I 
asked  of  my  brother-editor,  was  Lord  Exmouth, 
unused  to  take  part  .in  politics,  so  marked  in  his 
manifestation  of  a  hostile  feeling  towards  the  Queen? 
"  We  saw  and  heard  too  much  in  the  Caledonia  of 
what  was  passing  on  the  Italian  shores.  The  lady 
came  one  day  on  board,  and  was  received  with  all 
the  honours  due  to  her  rank.  She  dined  at  the 
Admiral's  table,  and  left  an  impression  that  will 
never  be  forgotten.  Her  talk  was  of  such  a  nature 


THE   FIRST   EPOCH.  167 

that  Lord  Exmouth  ordered  the  midshipman  to  leave 
the  cabin." 

If  much  of  the  wide  domain  of  domestic  politics 
was  tabooed  to  us,  there  was  a  region  where  we  could 
"  expatiate  free,"  in  advocating  certain  social  improve 
ments  of  whose  efficacy  no  one  now  doubts.  The 
doubters  and  the  adversaries  of  reforms  which  the 
people  might  effect  themselves  were  then  a  majority. 
An  excellent  friend  of  my  youth,  who  had  estab 
lished  an  extensive  practice  as  a  surgeon  in  London 
— John  Cole — wrote  several  papers  of  this  nature. 
An  admirable  article  on  "  Cleanliness  and  Ventila 
tion"  suggests  how  little  had  been  accomplished 
twenty  years  before  the  days  of  Arnott,  and  Kay, 
and  Southwood  Smith,  and  Chadwick.  My  friend 
told  a  great  moral  truth  when  he  said,  "  If  men  are 
once  so  far  overtaken  by  sloth  or  poverty  as  to  submit 
unresistingly  to  the  utter  destitution  of  comfort  that 
attends  excessive  dirtiness,  all  sense  of  shame  will 
soon  be  lost,  and  with  it  all  disposition  to  exertion." 
But  London  then,  and  most  other  great  towns,  had  a 
very  insufficient  supply  of  water  for  the  preservation 
of  cleanliness.  He  spoke  of  the  most  expensive  of 
luxuries  when  he  talked  of  the  advantages  of  a  tepid 
bath  once  a  week.  The  young  men  and  women  of 
the  present  day  may  incline  to  believe  that  a  medical 
practitioner  was  giving  very  unnecessary  advice, 
suited  only  to  the  darkest  ages,  when  he  wrote, 
"  Those  who  can  be  brought  to  venture  on  so  un 
heard  of  a  thing  as  to  wash  the  whole  of  their  bodies, 
will  generally  be  induced  to  repeat  the  experiment 
from  the  comfort  it  affords."  The  household  sages  of 
the  last  years  of  George  III.  had  heard  that  there  was 
"  Death  in  the  Pot ;"  and  they  were  perfectly  satis- 


168  PASSAGES    OF    A    WOE  KING    LIFE  I 

fied  that  there  was  Death  in  the  Ba,th,  as  a  domestic 
institution.  It  is  related  by  Miss  Martineau  that  an 
ancient  dame,  who  was  taken  suddenly  ill,  having  been 
recommended  to  put  her  feet  in  warm  water,  ex 
claimed,  "  I've  not  wet  my  feet  for  thretty  years  !  I 
once  had  a  daughter  who  was  persuaded  to  wash  her 
feet,  and  who  died  afterwards.  Nobody  can  prove  that 
she  would  have  died  if  she  had  not  washed  her  feet.' 
When  Mr.  Cole  was  treating  of  Ventilation  and  Clean 
liness,  he  was  setting  forth  some  of  the  then  neglected 
"modern  in  stances"  of  scientific  discovery  which  have 
come  to  be  popular  "  wise  saws."  Yet  it  is  still  neces 
sary  to  preach  from  this  text :  "  In  the  construction  of 
houses  for  the  poor,  the  great  object  of  ventilation  has 
too  generally  been  overlooked."  I  had  myself  seen 
some  of  the  miseries  of  badly-situated  dwellings. 
There  was  a  memorable  flood  at  Eton,  and  the  lower 
parts  of  Windsor,  in  the  December  of  1821 ;  Eton  was 
traversed  in  boats.  Provisions  were  taken  in  at  the  win 
dows  by  the  unfortunate  persons  in  the  upper  rooms  of 
many  a  house.  Looking  from  the  North  Terrace,  "  the 
expanse  below  of  mead  and  grove"  was  one  vast  lake. 
In  "Hints  to  the  Cottager  on  the  Choice  of  a  Dwelling," 
I  wrote,  "  There  are  many  dangerous  fevers  which  are 
produced  by  the  vicinity  of  stagnant  waters;  and  houses 
which,  from  their  site,  are  constantly  damp,  expose  those 
who  inhabit  them  to  rheumatism,  croup,  ague,  and 
other  painful  disorders.  The  same  effects  are.  produced 
by  dwelling-houses  which  are  subject  to  occasional 
inundations  of  rivers.  We  have  lately  seen  the  misery 
which  is  produced  by  such  a  circumstance  ;  and  are 
quite  sure  that  none  would  be  subject  to  the  visits  of 
a  flood  if  they  could  possibly  avoid  it.  To  be  driven 
in  cold  weather  from  the  accustomed  fireside  ;  to 


THE   FIRST   EPOCH.  169 

shiver  in  bed-rooms  which  have  probably  no  grate  ; 
to  have  two  or  three  feet  of  water  running  through 
the  lower  part,of  the  house,  destroying  many  things 
and  injuring  more  ;  and  at  last,  when  the  inundation 
ceases,  to  find  the  whole  dwelling  damp  and  mise 
rable  for  several  weeks  ; — this  is  a  visitation  which 
no  one  would  willingly  seek." 

I  have  now  been  separated  for  nearly  forty  years 
from  the  home  of  my  youth  and  my  early  manhood. 
When  I  trace  in  various  faithful  records  the  evidence 
of  my  intense  local  atachment  to  Windsor,  I  wonder 
how  I  ever  endured  this  separation.  In  "  The  Plain 
Englishman  "  I  wrote  a  series  of  simple  Tales.  It  is 
long  since  I  looked  at  them ;  but  now  I  am  struck 
with  the  local  colour  which  nearly  all  of  them  exhibit. 
There  are  personal  recollections  of  a  deeper  character 
associated  with  "The  Plain  Englishman."  During  the 
summer  and  autumn  of  its  first  year  I  occupied  a 
cottage  on  the  bank  of  the  Thames.  In  the  winter 
I  was  settled  in  a  house  to  me  most  interesting  in  its 
connexion  with  the  dim  antiquity  of  the  Castle.  Its 
entrance  was  in  the  smaller  cloisters  to  the  north  of 
St.  George's  Chapel,  but  its  principal  rooms  were  over 
the  great  Cloister  on  the  east  of  the  Chapel.  I 
wrote  here  in  the  most  charming  of  studies.  The 
organ  swell,  the  choral  harmonies,  more  solemn  in 
their  indistinctness,  often  made  me  pause  at  my  work 
and  throw  down  my  pen,  to  surrender  my  thoughts  to 
the  spiritual  charm.  The  ceiling  of  this  antique 
room  was  of  the  most  exquisite  carving — so  beautiful 
that  George  Cattermole,  then  a  young  man  doing 
task-work  for  John  Britton,  was  my  guest  for  a  day 
or  two,  that  he  might  preserve  it  in  one  of  his  charm 
ing  architectural  drawings.  •  There  is  no  fear  now  of 


170  PASSAGES    OF    A    WOEKING    LIFE  I 

its  destruction,  for  this  suite  of  rooms  forms  part 
of  the  Chapter-House  of  the  College  of  Windsor. 
In  1821,  I  rented  this  unique  dwelling  of  the  Dean 
and  Canons.  Beautiful  it  was,  but  the  want  of  free 
air  made  it  unfit  for  healthful  existence.  Here  we 
had  a  daughter  born  ;  here  we  lost  a  son.  My 
dear  friend  Matthew  Davenport  Hill  here  passed 
some  happy  hours  with  us  at  Christmas.  Before 
Easter  I  had  to  record  "My  First  Grief."  I  was  then, 
as  I  am  now,  as  little  disposed  as  Coriolanus  was,  to 
show  my  wounds  in  the  market-place  ;  but  my  feel 
ings  overflowed  into  a  paper  which  I  printed  in  "The 
Plain  Englishman."  Two  sentences  will  be  sufficient 
to  mark  this  passage  in  my  life.  "  Until  I  had 
reached  my  thirtieth  year  I  had  known  nothing  of 
what  I  can  properly  term  sorrow.  The  evils  of 
mortality  had  not  begun  to  come  home  to  me.  The 
wings  of  the  destroying  angel  had  rested  upon  the 
dwellings  of  my  neighbours  ;  but  death  had  never  yet 
crossed  my  threshold,  and  sickness  seldom.  I  had 
heard  the  voice  of  misery  like  the  mutterings  of  a 
distant  storm  ;  but  the  thunder  had  not  yet  burst 
over  my  head — I  had  not  covered  my  eyes  from  the 
passing  lightning."  ....  "I  now  knew,  for  tire  first 
time,  what  it  is  to  have  death  about  our  hearths. 
The  excitement  of  hope  and  fear  in  a  moment  passes 
away  ;  and  the  contest  between  feeling  and  reason 
begins,  with  its  alternation  of  passion  and  listless- 
ness.  It  is  some  time  before  the  image  of  death 
gets  possession  of  the  mind.  We  sleep,  perchance, 
amidst  a  feverish  dream  of  gloomy  and  indistinct 
remembrances.  The  object  of  our  grief,  it  may 
be,  has  seemed  to  us  present,  in  health  and 
animation.  We  wake  in  a  struggle  between  the. 


THE    FIKST    EPOCH.  171 

shadowy  and  the  real  world  ;  and  we  require  an 
effort  of"  the  intellect  to  believe  that  the  earthly  part 
of  the  being  we  have  loved  is  no  more  than  a  clod 
of  the  valley." 

"The  Plain  Englishman"  was  closed,  upon  the 
completion  of  the  third  volume,  in  December, 
1822.  I  may  incidentally  mention,  as  a  curious 
fact,  that  the  title  of  one  of  our  articles  of  that  year 
anticipated  the  identical  name  of  the  Society  which, 
in  1827,  was  enabled  to  accomplish  much  that  I  had 
dreamt  of  (and  a  great  deal  more),  in  my  beginnings 
of  Popular  Literature.  That  paper  was  headed, 
"DIFFUSION  OF  USEFUL  KNOWLEDGE."* 


Plain  Englishman,  voL  iii.,  p.  277. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

N  the  13th  of  June,  1820,  I  received  an 
offer,  conveyed  to  me  in  confidence  by  my 
zealous  friend  Mr.  Locker,  to  become  the 
Editor  and  part  Proprietor  of  a  London 
Weekly  Paper,  "The  Guardian."  The  tone  of  my  poli 
tical  opinions  had  been  collected  from  the  "  Retrospect 
of  Public  Affairs  "  in  "  The  Plain  Englishman."  The 
violence  of  political  agitation  appeared  to  be  fast  sub 
siding.  Some  of  the  physical-force  Reformers  were  in 
prison.  The  miscreants  who  had  contemplated  assassi 
nation  as  a  cure  for  political  evils  were  hanged.  There 
was  only  one  chance  of  a  convulsion.  The  Queen, 
contrary  to  all  reasonable  expectation,  had  landed  at 
Dover,  and  on  the  6th  of  June  had  entered  London 
amidst  the  shouts  of  thousands.  On  that  evening  a 
Message  from  the  King  was  presented  to  the  Lords 
and  Commons,  and  a  green  bag  was  laid  on  the  table 
of  each  House,  containing  papers  respecting  the 
conduct  of  Her  Majesty  when  abroad,  which  the  King 
had  thought  fit  to  communicate  to  Parliament. 
When  I  entered  upon  my  new  editorial  duties  at  the 
end  of  the  month,  the  hope  was  at  an  end  which 
wise  men  of  all  parties  had  entertained,  that  a  com 
promise  would  avert  the  scandal  and  danger  of  a 
public  inquiry.  Through  July,  after  the  Secret 
Committee  of  the  House  of  Lords  had  made  its 
Report,  and  a  Bill  of  Pains  and  Penalties  was  read 


THE   FIRST   EPOCH.  173 

a  first  time,  the  mob  excitement  of  London  was  such 
as  few  had  before  witnessed.  When  the  Queen  took 
up  her  residence  at  Brandenburgh  House  on  the  3rd 
of  August,  there  began  a  series  of  processions,  from  the 
extreme  East  to  the  extreme  West,  that  manifested 
at  once  the  energy  and  the  folly  of  democracy  in  its 
wildest  hour  of  excitement.  Often  riding  to  Windsor 
have  I  been  detained  by  the  impossibility  of  passing 
through  an  army  of  working  men,  with  bands,  and 
banners,  and  placards,  headed  by  deputations  of  their 
several  committees  with  wands  of  office — all  terribly 
in  earnest — all  perfectly  convinced  of  the  Queen's 
immaculate  purity — all  resolved  that  oppression 
should  not  triumph — a  peaceful  multitude,  but  one 
that  in  any  other  country  would  have  seemed  the 
herald,  if  not  the  manifestation,  of  Revolution.  In 
the  fierce  battle  of  journalism  which  was  then  fought 
throughout  the  year,  I  was  not  called  upon  for  a 
declaration  of  extreme  opinions.  If  such  a  course 
had  been  insisted  upon  I  should  have  resigned  my 
charge.  I  wrote  to  my  co-proprietor,  when  it  was 
suggested  that  a  stronger  tone  ought  to  be  adopted 
with  regard  to  the  Queen,  "I  can  only  say  that  I  feel 
confident  that  the  language  of  moderation  ought  to 
be  most  aimed  at,  as  the  likeliest  to  prevent  the  exist 
ing  ferment  increasing  into  a  state  of  perpetual 
division  and  anarchy."  This  was  written  at  the  end 
of  November ;  when,  although  the  Government  had 
terminated  this  unhappy  contest,  the  political  animo 
sities  that  had  grown  up  with  it  were  raging  in  a 
flood  of  personality  such  as  had  never  before 
disgraced  the  Press  of  England.  The  "  Guardian" 
had  not  flourished  under  the  gross  mismanagement 
of  its  early  career,  nor  under  my  too  conscientious 


174  PASSAGES   OF    A    WORKING   LIFE: 

interpretation  of  the  duties  of  a  journalist.  I  became 
its  sole  proprietor  upon  easy  terms.  Gladly  did  I 
leave  the  rough  work  of  party  to  John  Bull,  which, 
established  in  December,  1820,  soon  obtained  an 
influence  which  was  earned  by  something  more  than 
its  cleverness.  A  year  after,  in  both  the  papers 
which  I  then  conducted,  I  expressed  my  opinion  of 
the  danger  and  disgrace  of  the  prevailing  tone  of  the 
"  public  instructors."  This  opinion  is  perhaps  worth 
transcribing,  as  affording  a  contrast  between  the 
London  newspapers  of  1821  —  with  a  fourpenny 
stamp,  paying  a  duty  of  3s.  6d.  on  every  advertise 
ment,  printed  on  heavily-taxed  paper,  hemmed  round 
by  all  imaginable  safeguards  against  libel — and  the 
newspapers  of  1863,  with  no  stamp  whatever  and 
no  advertisement-duty,  paying  no  tax  upon  paper, 
fettered  by  no  securities  ;  between  the  London 
newspapers  whose  aggregate  circulation  in  one  week 
was  about  a  quarter  of  a  million,  and  the  news 
papers  that  upon  a  moderate  estimate  may  be  held 
to  circulate  five  millions  weekly.  In  the  country 
newspapers  the  contrast  is  perhaps  still  greater. 
Much  as  I  believed  in  the  regenerating  power  of  the 
Press,  I  could  scarcely  have  imagined  that  some 
distant  age  of  cheapness  would  have  been  an  age 
when  the  impure,  seditious,  violent,  intolerant,  and 
libellous  writer  would  have  become  a  rare  exception 
amongst  journalists.  Nevertheless,  I  rightly  con 
sidered  that  out  of  the  increase  of  knowledge 
amongst  the  people  would  arise  a  better  spirit  of 
journalism  ;  which,  in  its  turn,  would  become  one 
of  the  most  efficient  instruments  of  education. 

Thus  I  wrote  in  1821  :    "  A  general  view  of  the 
influence  of  the  Press  would  lead  us  to  judge  that 


THE   FIRST    EPOCH.  175 

very  much  of  that  influence  is  injurious  to  the  safety 
of  the  Government ;  opposed  to  the  happiness  of  the 
people ;  and  destructive  of  that  real  freedom  of 
thought  and  writing  upon  which  the  glory  and  pros 
perity  of  England  have  been  built.  But  we  believe 
that  a  great  deal  of  the  evil  will  cure  itself.  It  is 
the  half-knowledge  of  the  people  that  has  created 
the  host  of  ephemeral  writers  who  address  themselves 
to  the  popular  passions.  If  the  firmness  of  the 
Government,  and,  what  is  better,  the  good  sense  of 
the  upper  and  middle  classes  who  have  property  at 
stake,  can  succeed  for  a  few  years  in  preserving 
tranquillity,  the  ignorant  disseminators  of  sedition 
and  discontent  will  be  beaten  out  of  the  field  by 
opponents  of  better  principles,  who  will  direct  the 
secret  of  popular  writing  to  a  useful  and  a  righteous 
purpose.  But  this  change  in  the  temper  of  the 
multitude  is  not  to  be  effected  by  borrowing  the 
dirty  weapons  of  those  who  are  engaged  in  stimulat 
ing  them  to  acts  of  atrocity.  It  is  not  to  be  effected 
by  raking  up  scandalous  stories  against  the  dema 
gogues  of  a  faction — by  penetrating  into  the  recesses 
of  private  life  to  drag  forth  the  evidence  of  a  for 
gotten  fault  or  an  expiated  folly — by  pouring  forth 
the  coarsest  abuse  against  the  principles  and  practice 
of  eminent  men  of  adverse  opinions,  with  a  blind  and 
levelling  fury.  There  is  a  revolutionary  temper  in 
such  ultra-publications  which  degrades  the  cause  it 
affects  to  support,  and  furnishes  an  example  to  the 
dangerous  doctrines  it  pretends  to  resist.  The  Black 
Dwarf  and  John  Bull  are  scions  from  the  same 
stock.  The  dictates  of  interest  only  have  made  the 
one  a  pander  to  the  passions  of  the  little  vulgar ; 
the  other,  a  hunter  of  scandal  for  the  vulgar  great." 


17G  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE  I 

It  was  time  to  speak  out  when  a  Society  had 
started  up  to  do  the  work  of  a  Censorship,  in  the 
blindest  fashion  of  ultra-loyal  partisanship.  In 
March,  1821,  the  "Constitutional  Association"  was 
formed,  for  the  purpose  of  prosecuting  printers  and 
publishers  who  went  beyond  what  they  deemed  the 
proper  bounds  of  political  discussion.  This  despi 
cable  Association — despicable,  however  supported  by 
rank  and  wealth — saw  no  mischief  in  the  gross  libels 
of  one  set  of  writers  who  professed  to  be  the  friends 
of  the  Government,  but  instituted  the  most  reckless 
prosecutions  against  "liberal"  newspapers.  The  term 
"  liberal "  had  then  begun  to  mark  a  certain  set  of 
opinions  which  had  outgrown  their  former  title  of 
"Jacobinical."  This  Association  acquired  the  name 
of  "  The  Bridge  Street  Gang."  After  three  or  four 
months  of  a  hateful  existence — denounced  in  Parlia 
ment — execrated  by  every  man  who  had  inherited  a 
spark  of  Milton's  zeal  for  "  the  Liberty  of  Unlicensed 
Printing "  —  this  Association  was  prosecuted  for 
oppression  and  extortion.  The  grand  jury  found  a 
true  bill  against  its  members.  They  were  acquitted 
upon  their  trial ;  but  practices  were  disclosed  which 
showed  how  dangerous  it  was  for  a  crafty  attorney 
and  a  knot  of  fanatical  politicians  to  play  at  attor 
ney-generalship.  The  true  public  of  this  country 
was  getting  as  sick  of  outrageous  Loyalty  as  of 
desperate  Radicalism. 

Looking  around  me  at  the  Newspaper  Press  of 
London,  I  saw  very  few  papers  that  attempted  to 
combine  the  literary  and  the  political  character 
John  Hunt  was  still  the  editor  of  "The  Examiner  ;" 
but  his  brother  Leigh,  who  had  raised  the  critical 
department  of  the  paper  to  the  highest  eminence 


THE   FIRST   EPOCH.  177 

might  well  be  tired  of  newspaper  occupation,  and 
was  meditating  the  unfortunate  union  with  Byron  in. 
"The  Liberal."  John  Hunt,  in  May,  1821,  was 
prosecuted  for  a  libel  on  the  House  of  Commons,  and 
was  sentenced  to  two  years'  imprisonment.  "  The 
Champion,"  "  The  News,"  and  one  or  two  others,  had 
literary  pretensions,  but  they  made  their  criticism 
little  more  than  a  vehicle  for  their  politics.  I  fan 
cied  there  was  an  opening  for  a  paper  that,  giving 
a  temperate  support  to  the  Government,  might  deal 
with  Literature  in  a  spirit  of  impartiality.  I  panted 
for  a  region  of  pure  air  and  clear  skies,  lifted  out  of 
the  heat  and  fever  of  the  plains,  where  public  writers 
lost  all  natural  freedom  and  vigour  in  a  constant 
round  of  controversial  dram-drinking. 

I  have  the  merit,  humble  as  it  may  be,  of  having 
created  a  new  department  of  Newspaper  Literature. 
On  the  3rd  of  March,  1821,  "  The  Guardian  "  had  the 
first  of  a  series  of  articles,  regularly  continued  month 
by  month,  entitled  "Magazine-Day."  This  paper 
opens  with  a  glimpse-  of  "  The  Bow,"  forty-two  years 
since.  What  changes  have  come  over  the  then 
naiTOw  world  of  Magazines  !  Periodical  writing  had 
then  a  few  able  workmen,  and  some,  rather  more 
numerous,  of  the  "  Ned  Purdon  "  school.  But  now  h 
Let  me  copy  from  this  paper  a  few  sentences  of  what 
then  struck  me  as  one  of  the  remarkable  indications 
of  a  new  "Reading  Age,"  upon  which  age  Coleridge 
made  some  lumbering  jokes  : — "There  is  no  bustle, 
to  our  minds,  half  so  agreeable  as  the  bustle  of 
Paternoster  Row  on  the  last  day  of  the  month.  This 
is  Magazine  Day — the  most  important  division  in 
the  life  of  a  bookseller's  collector ;  as  important  as 
settling  day  to  the  stock-broker,  or  quarter-day  to 


178  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE  : 

the  annuitant.  We  delight,  on  these  memorable 
.  mornings,  to  lounge  through  the  narrow  approaches 
of  Ave-Maria  or  Warwick  Lanes,  and  then  to  make 
a  dead  stop  in  the  Paradise  of  Publishers — to  hear 
the  hum  of  the  great  hive  of  literature — to  see  its 
bees  going  forth  in  search  of,  or  returning  with,  their 
spoils.  As  the  dusky  porter,  catching  the  rapid  step 
of  the  periodical  lore  which  he  bears,  brushes  past  us, 
"  we  delight  to  speculate  upon  the  component  parts  of 
his  burden — to  estimate  the  relative  proportions  of 
Blackwoods  and  Baldwins,  of  Monthlies  (Old  and 
New],  of  Gentleman's  and  Ladies',  of  Belle  Assem- 
blees  and  Evangelicals.  It  is  a  special  pleasure  to  us 
to  dive  into  some  of  the  celebrated  penetralia  of  the 
Row,  and  there  learn  to  estimate  the  merits  of  these 
monthly  candidates  for  applause,  not  by  the  beauty 
of  their  styles,  but  by  the  bulk  of  their  heaps."  I 
then  described  how,  by  these  walks,  I  obtained  pos 
session  of  half  a  dozen  periodicals,  and  was  able  to 
taste  the  fruit,  not  before  it  was  ripe,  but  before  it  was 
brought  into  the  market.  I  had  long  thought,  I  said, 
of  turning  this  passion  to  account ;  and  at  length 
resolved  to  give  my  readers  some  of  the  chit-chat 
of  Magazine  Day.  "  With  a  fearless  hand  we  will 
twitch  your  mantles,  blue,  or  drab,  or  green,  ye 

'Abstract  and  brief  chronicles  of  the  time.' 

Your  days  of  dulness  are  overpast.  Ye  are  no  longer 
the  reversionary  property  of  the  pastrycook  and  the 
trunk-maker.  Ye  are  well  worth  a  regular  monthly 
notice  ;  aye,  and  much  better  worth  than  many  a 
lumbering  quarto."  This  article  made  a  stir  in  "  The 
Trade,"  and  before  next  Magazine  Day,  these  "  squires 
of  the  moon's  body  "  trooped  into  my  office  without 


THE    FIRST    EPOCH.  179 

giving  me  the  trouble  of  a  journey  to  Paternoster 
Row. 

The  new  era  of  Magazines  may  be  said  to  have 
commenced  in  1817.  In  that  year  "Blackwood's 
Edinburgh  Magazine  "  startled  the  London  publishers 
into  a  conviction  that  for  a  new  generation  of  readers 
more  attractive  fare  might  be  provided  than  at  some 
of  the  old  established  restaurateurs,  whose  dishes 
were  neither  light,  nor  elegant,  nor  altogether  whole 
some.  When  Blackwood  was  started — apparently 
without  any  very  correct  knowledge  that  something 
was  wanted  in  periodical  literature  beyond  political 
bitterness — the  old  magazines  and  their  new  rivals 
had  gone  on  without  much  deviation  from  the  hack 
neyed  paths  in  which  they  had  first  walked.  The 
possibility  was  then  scarcely  conceived  that  they 
could  afford  to  pay  handsomely  for  contributions ; 
and  thus  their  chief  dependence  was  upon  their 
gratuitous  correspondence.  They  were  the  vehicles 
for  the  communication  to  the  world  of  all  sorts  of 
opinions,  theological,  moral,  political,  and  antiquarian. 
They  were  the  tablets  upon  which  the  retired  scholar 
or  the  active  citizen  might  equally  inscribe  their 
theories  or  their  observations,  in  a  familiar  and  un 
pretending  style  ;  and  they  at  once  kept  alive  the 
intelligence  of  their  own  generation,  and  formed 
valuable  records  for  succeeding  eras.  In  one  maga 
zine,  "The  Gentleman's,"  which  had  lived  the  most 
respectable  of  existences  for  nine  decades,  the  anti 
quarians  stoutly  held  their  own.  In  its  volumes 
from  1731  there  is  more  valuable  "  tombstone  infor 
mation  "  to  be  found  than  in  any  other  work  in  our 
language  ;  and  this,  to  speak  truly,  is  not  knowledge 
to  be  despised.  The  honest  printer  of  St.  John's 


180  PASSAGES   OF    A   WORKING    LIFE  I 

Gate,  of  whom  Johnson  said  that  he  scarcely  ever 
looked  out  of  the  window  without  a  view  to  the 
improvement  of  his  magazine,  had  seen  the  births  and 
the  deaths  of  many  rivals.  There  was  a  "  London  "  to 
enter  the  lists  against  him  when  the  booksellers  had 
discovered  the  value  of  this  new  lode  in  the  mine  of 
literature.  There  was 'a  "Monthly."  There  was  a 
"  Ladies'."  The  old  names  were  supposed  to  retain 
their  old  influences  ;  and  so  at  the  time  of  my 
"  Magazine  Day  "  there  was  a  "  Monthly,"  and  there 
was  a  "  New  Monthly  ;  "  there  was  a  "  London,"  and 
there  was  a  "Ladies'."  Mr.  Phillips,  afterwards  Sir 
Richard,  had  revived  the  "Monthly  "  in  1796,  pretty 
much  upon  the  ancient  "  correspondence  "  principle. 
The  "  New  Monthly  Magazine  and  Universal  Regis 
ter  "had  scarcely  more  ambitious  pretensions,  when 
set  up  in  1814.  The  "  London,"  of  all  the  metropo 
litan  magazines,  was  the  most  distinguished  for  its 
literary  excellence.  It  had  been  re-established  in  1 820 
by  Mr.  Robert  Baldwin,  and  was  as  often  called  "  Bald 
win,"  as  the  Edinburgh  Magazine  was  called  "  Black- 
wood."  A  controversy  between  the  two  leading 
Miscellanies,  conducted  with  that  bitterness  on  both 
sides  which  was  an  evil  characteristic  of  the  periodical 
literature  of  those  days, — when  writers  of  all  grades 
readily  plunged  into  the  waters  of  strife  and  there 
wallowed  like  the  heroes  of  "  The  Dunciad  "  in  Fleet 
Ditch — led  to  the  fatal  catastrophe  of  the  death  in  a 
duel  of  Mr.  John  Scott,  the  amiable  and  accomplished 
editor  of  the  "  London."  I  knew  not  Mr.  Scott ;  but 
in  common  with  all  who  felt  that  the  pistol  was  the 
worst  arbiter  of  differences,  literary  or  political,  I 
deeply  grieved  for  such  an  end  of  his  career,  in  which 
he  had  in  various  ways  shed  a  lustre  upon  journalism. 


THE    FIRST   EPOCH.  181 

In  my  first  article  of  "  Magazine  Day,"  I  said,  "  Look 
ing  at  the  melancholy  circumstances  under  which  the 
present  "  London "  has  been  brought  out,  we  are 
surprised  that  there  is  so  much  excellent  matter  in 
it ;  and  argue  thence  that  the  fatal  termination  of  a 
foolish  affair  will  not  greatly  impair  the  future 
gratification  of  the  public  in  this  very  agreeable 
miscellany." 

The  "  JBlackwood  "  of  this  period  had  attained  a 
reputation  which  made  all  successful  rivalry  very 
difficult.  "  Nothing,"  says  Mrs.  Gordon,  "  was  left 
undone  to  spread  the  fame  and  fear  of  Black  wood." 
The  indefatigable  publisher,  who,  as  we  now  learn, 
was  its  real  editor,  was  as  careful  to  propitiate  a 
favourable  opinion  of  his  "  Maga  "  amongst  periodical 
writers  who  admired  its  talent,  as  its  great  sup 
porters,  Wilson  and  Lockhart,  were  ever  ready  for  a 
warfare  in  which  no  quarter  was  given  or  expected. 
It  was  a  surprise  to  me  when  I  received  from  the 
dreaded  William  Blackwood  a  letter  of  thanks  for 
"your  kind  and  early  notices  of  my  magazine." 
Still  more  was  I  surprised  when  he  wrote,  "  Permit 
me  to  return  you  the  author's  and  my  own  best 
thanks  for  your  splendid  critique  upon  '  Valerius.' 
Your  opinion  (which  was  the  first  given  upon  the 
work)  seems  to  be  fully  confirmed  by  the  public 
voice."  Was  this  the  style,  I  thought,  in  which  it 
was  necessary  for  a  publisher  to  administer  small 
doses  of  flattery  to  periodical  critics,  however  humble, 
for  what  ought  only  to  be  considered  an  act  of  justice? 
In  after  years,  occasionally  coming  across  the  cold 
and  proud  author  of  "Valerius,"  when  he  had  become 
Editor  of  the  "  Quarterly  Review,"  I  have  thought  of 
"  the  author's  best  thanks,"  &c. ;  and  have  suspected 


182  PASSAGES   OF   A  WORKING   LIFE: 

that  the  ultra-courteous  phrase  was  a  mere  fagon  de 
parler  of  the  skilful  charioteer  who  could  show  such  a 
high-mettled  racer  in  his  team.  Of  Professor  Wilson  I 
could  readily  have  believed  that  any  cordial  acknow 
ledgment  of  a  supposed  courtesy  would  be  in  accord 
ance  with  his  genial  nature.  In  later  years,  he  and 
I  may  be  judged  to  have  adopted  very  different 
opinions  upon  public  questions,  but  his  hand  of 
kindness  was  always  held  out  to  me  ;  and  in  his 
social  hour,  when  I  first  knew  him,  and  in  those 
days  when  sorrow  and  sadness  had  impaired  but  not 
subdued  the  elasticity  of  his  nature,  I  had  a  confir 
mation  of  my  belief,  established  in  many  instances 
before  and  since,  that  a  political  partisan  and  satirist 
may  have  the  warmest  heart  and  be  capable  of  the 
truest  friendship. 

In  "Blackwood"  at  this  time  was  finished  "The 
Ayrshire  Legatees,"  in  which  Gait  first  opened  his 
rich  vein  of  observation-  and  humour.  Had  that 
publishing  economy  of  the  present  day  been  then 
fully  established,  which  consists  in  making  a  work  of 
fiction  do  double  service,  originally  as  a  series  of 
magazine  papers  and  then  as  a  complete  work,  Gait 
would  have  spread  his  next  venture  over  a  dozen 
numbers  of  the  closely  printed  pages  that  had  ren 
dered  Buchanan's  head  so  familiar  to  the  Southern 
public,  and  then  have  made  his  more  dignified 
appearance.  The  canny  publisher  seems  to  have 
had  some  doubts  of  our  metropolitan  tastes,  for  he 
writes  to  the  editor  of  *  The  Guardian :  " — "  With 
this  you  will  receive  a  very  singular  book,  which  I 
shall  publish  in  a  few  days,  '  Annals  of  the  Parish.' 
How  it  may  be  liked  in  England  I  cannot  exactly 
say  ;  but  I  am  sure  it  will  be  highly  relished  by  all 


THE   FIRST   EPOCH.  183 

Scotsmen,  because  the  sketches  of  Scottish  country 
life  are  so  true  to  nature."  Do  any  of  the  younger 
readers  of  the  present  day  care  to  look  into  a  book 
whose  chief  merit  is  that  it  is  "  so  true  to  nature  ? " 
Do  they  care  to  turn  to  that  storehouse  of  quiet 
humour,  "  Sir  Andrew  Wylie,  of  that  ilk,"  which 
came  in  rapid  succession  ?  Perhaps  some  of  my 
Georgian-era  contemporaries  who  are  sick  of  sensa 
tion  novels,  may  turn  again  to  what  afforded  them 
delight  forty  years  ago.  Proud  as  he  was  of  the  men 
of  genius  that  he  had  gathered  around  him,  Mr. 
Blackwood  could  not  forego  his  political  antipathies  ; 
and,  somewhat  too  confidently,  fancied  that  the  "  able 
editor  "  whom  he  flattered  would  partake  them.  He 
wrote,  "  As  the  magazine  has  been  so  much  attacked 
and  misrepresented  by  the  Whig  and  Radical  press, 
I  would  .be  particularly  obliged  to  you  if  you  could 
notice  the  article  on  'The  Personalities  of  the  Whigs.' " 
I  did  notice  it  in  these  words  :  "  The  letter  on  *  The 
Personalities  of  the  Whigs '  is  forcible,  and  convincing 
enough — to  a  partizan.  The  object  of  the  writer  is 
to  prove  that  the  Whigs  commenced  this  species  of 
warfare,  and  that  those  opposed  to  their  principles 
have  a  right  to  bring  the  same  weapons  into  the  field 
which  their  enemies  have  so  long  been  exclusively 
permitted  to  employ.  For  our  own  parts,  we  had 
rather  that  political  contests  were  conducted  accord 
ing  to  the  usual  rules  of  honourable  warfare  ;  but  if 
one  party  use  catamarans  and  infernal  machines,  it 
would  be  hard  to  restrict  the  other  to  simple  steel 
and  gunpowder." 

The  new  facilities  of  communication  were  begin 
ning  to  tell  upon  the  commerce  of  Literature  as  upon 
all  other  commerce.  Railroads  were  yet  ten  years  off 


184  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE  I 

in  an  undreamt-of  future.  But  in  1821  the  potent 
agency  of  steam-packets  was  breaking  down  the 
difference  between  Paternoster  Row  and  Princes 
Street.  On  the  28th  of  September  I  was  reading 
"  Black  wood/'  when  the  magazines  of  our  metropolis 
were  just  getting  on  their  outer  garments ;  while 
their  northern  brethren  were  quietly  reposing,  in 
well  arranged  heaps,  in  our  southern  warehouses, 
perfectly  sleek  and  dry,  after  a  happy  voyage  of 
sixty  hours.  This  new  condition  upon  which  com 
petition  was  to  be  carried  on  made  the  London 
publishers  more  solicitous  for  the  excellence,  rather 
than  the  cheap  cost,  of  their  periodical  offerings  to  a 
public  that  had  begun  to  be  clamorous  for  novelties, 
and  somewhat  more  critical  than  a  previous  gene 
ration.  Unmoved  amidst  the  general  rivalry  was 
that  staid  and  sober  brown-coated  companion  of  our 
forefathers,  who  scorned  the  fluctuations  of  fashion, 
and  was  still  the  Gentleman  of  the  days  of  Pulteney 
and  Walpole.  His  costume  was  preserved  as  un 
changeably  as  that  of  the  statue  of  George  the  Second 
in  Leicester  Square.  He  still  gloried  in  being  one 
of  the  staunchest  cocked  hats  of  the  Society  of 
Antiquaries  ;  knew  nothing  of  Wellington  boots  or 
Cossack  trousers ;  dined  at  one  o'clock  ;  and  if  he 
could  have  been  persuaded  to  go  to  the  play, 
would  have  been  at  the  pit-door  at  five,  as  in  his 
spring-time.  It  would  have  puzzled  the  dandyism 
of  the  days  of  George  the  Fourth  and  Brummell  to 
have  found  Mr.  Urban  an  endurable  companion  ;  but 
he  was  eminently  respectable  ;  and  no  magazine 
critic  could  honestly  pass  over  this  excellent  hermit 
of  modern  literature.  One  of  his  old  companions, 
"  The  European,"  was  smartening  up.  Mr.  Colburn, 


THE    FIRST    EPOCH.  185 

not  to  be  left  behind  in  the  periodical  race,  had, 
in  1821,  engaged  Campbell  to  be  the  avowed  editor 
of  "  The  New  Monthly  Magazine  and  Literary 
Journal."  Campbell's  own  lectures  on  poetry  were 
elegant  and  dull.  His  contributors  had  not  caught 
the  spirit  of  liveliness  by  which  even  the  old  stock  of 
ideas  could  be  successfully  reproduced.  The  poet 
made,  as  we  then  thought,  a  mistake  in  proclaiming 
his  acceptance  of  the  editorial  office.  There  is  a 
good  deal  to  be  argued  for  and  against  anonymous 
editorship  and  anonymous  contributorship.  We  then 
said,  and  we  are  not  quite  sure  that  we  were  wrong 
— "  His  power  of  selection  from  the  contributions  of 
his  assistants  must  be  fettered,  and  the  freedom  and 
boldness  of  his  own  opinions  encumbered,  by  a 
thousand  personal  considerations,  which  ought  not  to 
weigh,  and  would  not  have  weighed,  a  feather  in  the 
scale,  had  he  preserved  that  best  of  all  forms  of 
government  in  periodical  literature — a  secret  des 
potism." 

After  the  unhappy  death  of  John  Scott,  the 
"  London "  had  passed  from  Mr,  Baldwin  into  the 
hands  of  Messrs.  Taylor  and  Hessey.  These  were  its 
palmy  days — the  days  of  Lamb  and  De  Quincey  ;  of 
John  Hamilton  Reynolds  ;  of  Thomas  Hood,  whose 
first  introduction  to  the  literary  world  was  that  of  its 
sub-editor.  I  wrote,  in  September,  1821  :  "  We  never 
read  anything  more  deeply  interesting  than  the 
'  Confessions  of  an  English  Opium-Eater.'  We  can 
put  implicit  faith  in  them.  They  have  all  the  cir 
cumstantial  sincerity  of  Defoe.  They  are  written  in 
a  fine  flowing  style,  in  which  the  author  is  perfectly 
forgotten."  After  the  publication  of  two  articles  on 
the  Pleasures  and  Pains  of  Opium,  the  majority  of 


186  PASSAGES   OF    A   WORKING   LIFE: 

their  readers  doubted  the  reality  of  these  Confes 
sions.  The  author,  in  a  letter  to  the  editor  of  the 
magazine,  declared  that  the  narrative  contained  a 
faithful  statement  of  his  own  experience  as  an  Opium- 
Eater,  drawn  up  with  entire  simplicity,  except  in 
some  trifling  deviations  of  dates  and  suppression  of 
names  which  circumstances  had  rendered  it  expe 
dient  should  not  be  published.  I  had  ample  oppor 
tunities,  a  few  years  after,  of  knowing  how  unexag- 
gerated  were  Mr.  De  Quincey's  statements  of  his 
extraordinary  power  of  taking  opium,  injurious  indeed 
to  his  health,  but  without  any  perceptible  deterio 
ration  of  his  wonderful  intellect.  Of  "  Elia  "  I  was 
almost  extravagant  in  my  admiration.  I  sometimes 
ventured  upon  verse  in  my  "  Magazine  Day,"  and 
thus  I  wrote,  in  1822,  after  speaking  dispraisingly  of 
some  articles  : 

"  But  Elia,  Elia,  he  is  half  divine, 

Fragrant  as  woodbines  in  the  evening  sun, 
Fresh  as  the  jasmines  round  his  porch  that  twine, 

Happy  as  school-boy  when  his  task  is  done, 
And  simple  as  the  village-maid  that  sings 
Her  bubbling  song  of  old  forgotten  things." 

I  can  scarcely  understand  De  Quincey  when  he  says 
of  Charles  Lamb,  and  particularly  of  his  delightful 
prose  essays  under  the  signature  of  Elia,  that  "he 
ranks  amongst  writers  whose  works  are  destined  to 
be  for  ever  unpopular,  and  yet  for  ever  interesting ; 
interesting,  moreover,  by  means  of  those  very  quali 
ties  which  guarantee  their  non-popularity"  (De  Quin 
cey's  Works,  1st  edit.,  Leaders  in  Literature,  p.  109). 
If  De  Quincey  be  right,  is  popularity  worth  having  ? 
My  life,  during  the  period  of  my  London  editor 
ship  was  one  of  very  pleasurable  excitement.  My 


THE   FIRST   EPOCH.  187 

solitary  musings,  my  morbid  fancies,  had  reached 
their  term.  I  had  ample  occupation — perhaps  too 
much  for  tranquil  thought.  We  had  a  branch-office 
of  our  newspaper  at  Aylesbury,  where  the  last  page 
3f  "The  Bucks  Gazette"  was  printed,  whilst  three 
pages  were  supplied  by  the  printed  sheets  of  "  The 
Windsor  Express."  To  despatch  these  sheets  by  a 
special  conveyance  thirty  miles,  so  as  to  be  in  time 
for  the  due  appearance  of  the  secondary  paper, 
required  careful  organization.  This  I  had  to  accom 
plish  on  a  Saturday  morning^  leaving  my  Windsor 
paper  in  a  state  fit  for  publication.  To  ride  up  to 
London,  or  to  mount  one  of  the  long  coaches  in  the 
afternoon,  so  as  to  be  at  the  "  Guardian "  office  for 
new  work,  was  my  next  exertion.  The  day  had  per 
haps  brought  forth  fresh  aspects  of  political  affairs. 
Often,  before  writing  my  leader,  have  I  discussed 
the  great  topics  of  the  hour  with  two  valued  friends, 
whose  opinions  were  not  entirely  in  accordance  with 
my  own.  Mounted  upon  stools  at  my  editorial  desk, 
have  Matthew  Davenport  Hill  and  John  Steer  (who 
was  my  sub-editor),  argued  with  me  about  the  de 
linquencies  and  short-comings  of  the  Government, 
the  necessity  of  Parliamentary  Reform,  the  degrada 
tion  of  England  in  all  matters  of  foreign  policy.  My 
wrork  done,  we  have  gladly  foregone  all  disputation, 
to  place  ourselves  under  the  genial  presidency  of  the 
worthy  immortalized  by  Tennyson — "the  waiter  at 
the  Cock."  In  the  lapse  of  time  we  gradually  grew 
nearer  in  our  opinions.  The  world  was  changing. 
The  miserable  convulsion  on  the  subject  of  the 
Queen  was  terminated  by  her  death.  Lord  Castle- 
reagh  was  no  more,  carrying  with  him  a  good  deal 
of  undeserved  obloquy.  Canning  was  come  back  to 


188  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE  : 

power.  He  was  to  inaugurate  a  new  era  of  liberty 
for  the  nations.  I  had  access  to  one  who  was  at  that 
time  Canning's  political  adherent  upon  the  subject 
of  Catholic  Emancipation,  and  that  of  the  pretensions 
of  a  Congress  to  decide  upon  the  destinies  of  Europe. 
Mr.  John  Wilson  Croker  was  always  ready  to  give 
me  his  opinions,  as  I  believed,  honestly.  They  were 
to  a  great  extent  liberal,  as  liberalism  was  then  un 
derstood  by  those  opposed  to  extreme  views.  He 
was  always  glad  to  gossip  upon  subjects  of  literature, 
and  he  earnestly  counselled  me  to  settle  in  London 
as  a  publisher.  I  am  bound  to  say,  advisedly,  that 
I  think  his  character  has  been  misrepresented  ;  and 
that  the  "  Rigby  "  of  "  Coningsby  "  is  an  ebullition  of 
personal  spite. 

My  occupation  as  the  editor  of  a  literary  paper 
necessarily  made  me  somewhat  familiar  with  the 
aspects  of  the  Publishing  Trade  of  London.  I  gra 
dually  looked  at  the  great  establishments  and  the 
small,  somewhat  more  closely,  through  my  vague 
desire  to  find  a  place  amongst  them.  There  was  a 
new  world  all  before  me  "  where  to  choose,"  not  my 
"  place  of  rest,"  but  my  sphere  of  action.  Let  me 
glance  back  at  my  rough  survey  of  this  terra 
incognita. 

Paternoster  Row,  and  the  immediate  neighbour 
hood  of  St.  Paul's  Churchyard  and  Ave-Maria  Lane, 
were  the  principal  seats  of  the  wholesale  book-trade. 
At  the  beginning  of  the  century,  according  to  Mr. 
Britton,  "most  of  the  tradesmen  attended  to  their 
respective  shops,  and  dwelt  in  the  upper  part  of  their 
houses."  He  had  lived  to  see  "the  heads  of  many 
of  the  large  establishments  visit  their  counting- 
houses  only  for  a  few  hours  in  the  day,  and  leave 


THE   FIRST   EPOCH.  189 

the  working  part  to  junior  partners,  clerks,  and 
apprentices."  The  greater  number  of  city  book 
sellers  did  not  carry  on  the  business  of  publisher  pur 
et  simple.  They  were  factors  of  books  for  the  London 
collectors ;  they  were  the  agents  of  the  country 
booksellers ;  they  almost  all  were  shareholders  of 
what  were  called  Chapter  Books,  from  the  business 
concerning  them  being  conducted  at  the  Chapter 
Coffee  House.  If  we  open  a  book  of  fifty  years  ago, 
which  had  become  a  standard  work  in  its  frequent 
reprints,  we  find  the  names  of  twelve  or  twenty  or 
even  more  booksellers  on  the  title-page.  The  copy 
right  had  probably  long  expired.  But  these  share 
holders,  who  formed  a  Limited  Liability  Company 
(not  registered),  were  considered  as  the  only  legiti 
mate  dealers,  and  their  editions  the  only  genuine 
ones.  It  was  long  before  their  monopoly  was  broken 
up  by  a  few  daring  adventurers  who  defied  these 
banded  hosts,  and  were  ready  to  pounce  upon  an 
expired  copyright  before  it  could  be  appropriated  by 
the  large  and  small  potentates  who  had  parcelled 
out  the  realms  of  print,  with  absolute  exclusiveness, 
in  the  good  times  before  Innovation.  Trade  Sales, 
as  they  were  called,  were  frequent  and  general 
amongst  the  primitive  race  of  booksellers ;  at  which 
sales  these  share-books  were  sold,  amongst  other 
wares,  to  the  best  bidders.  The  company  was  not 
attracted  by  elegant  banquets,  such  as  those  at  which, 
in  later  times,  I  have  assisted  as  a  guest  and  as  a 
host.  There  was  a  plain  dinner  of  substantial  beef 
and  mutton,  which  the  bookseller  ordered  at  an 
adjacent  tavern,  directing  what  dishes  should  be  pro 
vided  to  meet  the  number  of  his  expected  guests. 
I  have  heard  an  illustrative  anecdote — I  do  not 


190  PASSAGES   OF    A   WORKING   LIFE  : 

vouch  for  its  truth — of  one  of  the  respectable  firm 
that  lived  under  the  sign  of  the  Bible  and  Crown. 
In  the  midst  of  family  prayer  he  suddenly  paused, 
and  exclaimed,  "  John,  go  and  tell  Higgins  to  make 
another  marrow-pudding." 

The  "legitimate"  trade  had  its  code  of  "protec 
tion,"  on  which  it  had  reposed  since  the  days  of  the 
Tonsons  and  Lintots.  Its  system  of  associating  many 
shareholders  in  the  production  and  sale  of  an  esta 
blished  work  kept  up  its  price.  The  retailers  were 
only  allowed  to  purchase  of  the  wholesale  houses 
upon  certain  conditions,  which  had  the  effect  of 
making  it  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  for  the  private 
purchaser  to  obtain  a  book  under  the  sum  advertised. 
No  publisher  had  discovered  that  it  was  to  his 
interest  that  the  profit  of  the  middle-man  should  be 
small,  so  that  a  book  should  be  vended  at  the 
cheapest  rate.  The  very  notion  of  cheap  books 
stank  in  the  nostrils,  not  only  of  the  ancient  mag 
nates  of  the  East,  but  of  the  new  potentates  of  the 
West.  For  a  new  work  which  involved  the  purchase 
of  copyright,  it  was  the  established  rule  that  the 
wealthy  few,  to  whom  price  was  not  a  consideration, 
were  alone  to  be  depended  upon  for  the  remuneration 
of  the  author  and  the  first  profit  of  the  publisher. 
The  proud  quarto,  with  a  rivulet  of  text  meandering 
through  a  wide  plain  of  margin,  was  the  "  decus  et 
tutamen"  of  the  Row  and  of  Albemarle  Street.* 
Conduit  Street  now  and  then  vied  in  this  gran 
diosity  ;  but  more  commonly  sent  forth  legions  of 
octavos,  translated  from  the  French  with  a  rapidity 
that  was  not  very  careful  about  correctness  or  elegance 

*  The  Albemarle  Street  of  Mr.  Murray  is  still  famous.  The 
Conduit  Street  of  Mr.  Colburn  is  no  longer  renowned. 


THE    FIRST   EPOCH.  191 

• — qualities  which  were  not  contemplated  in  the  esti 
mate  of  the  literary  cost.  These  were  the  books 
whose  cheapness  was  deceptive,  like  the  books  issued 
by  the  Number-publishers.  One  of  these  successful 
tradesmen,  who,  although  he  became  Lord  Mayor, 
was  once  "  Thomas  "  the  porter  in  an  old  concern  for 
the  production  of  the  dearest  books  in  folio — such  as 
we  may  still  find  amongst  the  heir-looms  of  a  humble 
family  in  some  remote  village — was  never  solicitous 
to  buy  an  author;  his  great  object  was  to  buy  "a 
ground."  "  A  ground  "  was  like  a  milk-walk — there 
were  a  body  of  customers  to  be  transferred  to  the 
new  capitalist.  He  was  once  tempted  into  the  em 
ployment  of  original  authorship.  When  his  press 
one  day  stood  still  for  want  of  a  sufficient  supply  of 
the  commodity  for  which  he  had  indiscreetly  bar 
gained,  he  exclaimed,  "  Give  me  dead  authors  ! — they 
never  keep  you  waiting  for  copy." 

The  publishers  of  classical  books  were  not  nume 
rous.  Amongst  the  most  celebrated  was  Richard 
Priestley,  who  undertook  many  reprints  of  Greek 
and  Roman  authors  and  ponderous  lexicons.  His 
career  was  not  a  successful  one.  In  1830,  I  occu 
pied  for  the  summer  a  cottage  near  Hampstead. 
My  landlord,  who  had  become  rich  by  a  bequest,  had 
been  a  sheriff's  officer.  "  Did  you  know  poor  Dick 
Priestley  ? "  he  said.  "  He  was  a  good  fellow.  I  had 
him  often  under  my  lock.  We  were  great  friends  ; 
and  after  I  left  my  calling  I  lent  him  a  couple  of 
thousand."  Was  a  sentimental  friendship  ever  before 
or  since  formed  under  circumstances  so  unromantic  ? 
Amongst  the  new  class  of  publishers  there  were  several 
whose  republications  of  standard  works  were  as  beau 
tiful  as  they  were  cheap.  The  names  of  Major  and 
9 


192  PASSAGES   OF    A   WORKING   LIFE  : 

Pickering  are  still  deservedly  in  repute.  But  till 
Constable  started  his  "Miscellany,"  in  1827,  no  one 
had  thought  it  possible  that  an  original  work  could 
be  produced  in  the  first  instance  at  the  price  of  the 
humblest  reprint.  His  three-and -sixpenny  volumes, 
and. his  grand  talk  of  "a  million  of  buyers,"  made  the 
publishing  world  of  London  believe  that  the  mighty 
autocrat  of  Edinburgh  literature  had  gone  "  daft." 
And  so  the  Row  sneered,  and  persevered  in  its  old 
system  of  fourteen-shilling  octavos  and  two-guinea 
quartos.  The  Circulating  Library  was  scarcely  then 
an  institution  to  be  depended  upon  for  the  purchase 
of  a  large  impression,  even  of  the  most  popular 
Novels.  Travels  and  Memoirs  rarely  then  found  a 
place  on  the  shelves  of  which  fiction  had  long  claimed 
the  exclusive  occupation.  There  were  Book-Clubs, 
whose  members  aspired  to  be  patrons  of  a  more  solid 
literature  ;  but  they  were  far  from  universal.  All 
circumstances  considered,  it  was  extremely  difficult 
for  one  like  myself,  very  imperfectly  acquainted  with 
the  Trade,  to  form  a  correct  estimate  of  what  number 
of  a  new  book  he  might  venture  to  print.  Caution 
and  common-sense  might  save  inexperience  from 
ridiculous  ventures,  such  as  had  ruined  many  who 
fancied  there  were  no  blanks  in  that  tempting  lottery. 
I  had  known  an  unhappy  man,  who  had  come  into 
the  possession  of  a  considerable  fortune,  rush  into  the 
wildest  dealings  with  literary  schemers,  who  regarded 
him  as  a  whale  cast  upon  the  shore,  to  be  cut  up  as 
speedily  as  possible.  Poor  fellow !  he  was  always 
ready  to  buy — he  would  even  buy  a  title-page,  the 
more  absurd  the  more  attractive.  "  Mumbo  Jumbo," 
in  the  egg,  was  held  by  him  cheap  at  a  few  hundreds. 
I  looked  upon  his  fate  as  a  warning.  But  yet  I  could 


THE    FIRST    EPOCH.  193 

not  resist  the  temptation  to  enter  upon  a  career  of 
usefulness,  in  which  there  was  reputation,  and  pos 
sible  wealth,  to  be  won  by  diligence  and  integrity. 
Not  to  be  embarrassed  with  conflicting  occupations, 
I  sold  my  pet  "  Guardian "  at  the  end  of  1822,  and 
in  the  season  of  1823  I  had  taken  my  position  in 
Pall  Mall  East. 


CHAPTER  VI1L 

HE  Etonians  of  1819  had  set  on  foot  a 
"  College  Magazine,"  which  was  circulated 
in  manuscript  amongst  a  favoured  circle 
of  schoolfellows.  At  the  office  of  "The 
Windsor  and  Eton  Express  "  we  printed  for  them  a 
selection  from  their  contributions,  which  was  entitled 
"The  Poetry  of  the  College  Magazine."  As  this 
pamphlet  came  under  my  view  in  its  course  through 
the  press,  I  was  much  struck  by  the  exceeding  beauty 
of  some  of  these  compositions — striking  in  them 
selves,  but  more  remarkable  as  the  productions  of 
young  men,  who  seemed  to  have  escaped  from  the 
classical  trammels  of  the  "  Musa3  Etonenses  "  to  wear 
a  modern  English  garb  with  grace  and  freedom. 
Amongst  the  most  remarkable  of  these  poems  were 
"The  Hall  of  my  Fathers"  and  "My  Brother's 
Grave."  These  were  reprinted  in  the  more  ambi 
tious  work  which  grew  out  of  the  manuscript 
periodical. 

In  the  latter  half  of  September,  1820,  the  Eton 
vacation  was  at  an  end.  The  proceedings  against 
the  Queen  had  been  suspended  till  the  3rd  of 
October.  The  evidence  to  support  the  Bill  of  Pains 
and  Penalties  had  been  concluded.  Gladly  did  I 
hail  the  prospect  of  some  pleasant  occupation — some 
relief  from  the  routine  of  the  filthy  journalism  of 
that  time — when,  arriving  from  London,  I  found  two 


THE   FIRST   EPOCH.  195 

youths  waiting  for  me  at  my  cottage  by  the  side  of 
the  Thames,  who  proposed  to  me  to  print  and 
publish  an  Eton  Miscellany.  The  one  was  Walter 
Blunt,  the  other  Winthrop  Mackworth  Praed.  There 
was  nothing  to  discuss  beyond  the  estimate  for  print 
ing  ;  for  if  the  magazine  did  not  pay  its  expenses 
the  deficiency  was  to  be  met  by  a  subscription.  It 
was  not  to  be  a  weekly  essay,  such  as  "  The  Micro 
cosm,"  but  a  magazine  of  considerable  size,  that 
might  aspire  to  take  its  place  amongst  the  best  of 
the  monthly  periodicals.  On  the  1st  of  November 
appeared  "  The  Etonian,"  No.  I. 

The  remembrance  of  my  intercourse  with  the  two 
youthful  editors,  and  with  a  few  of  their  contributors, 
takes  me  back  to  a  delightful  passage  of  my  working 
life.  I  have  before  me  the  bright,  earnest,  happy 
face  of  Mr.  Blunt,  who  took  a  manifest  delight  in 
doing  the  editorial  drudgery.  The  worst  proofs  (for 
in  the  haste  unavoidable  in  periodical  literature  he 
would  sometimes  catch  hold  of  a  proof  unread}  never 
disturbed  the  serenity  of  his  temper.  To  him  it 
seemed  a  real  happiness  to  stand  at  a  desk  in  the 
composing-room,  and  laugh  over  the  blunders  which 
others  more  experienced  in  the  editorial  craft  would 
have  raved  at  as  stupidity  unbearable.  In  our  print 
ing-office  there  was  a  most  intelligent  overseer  and 
reader,  who  soon  grew  into  favour  with  the  editors, 
one  of  whom  did  not  forget,  after  forty  years  had 
passed,  the  man  who  delighted  to  anticipate  their 
wishes.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Blunt,  in  a  letter  full  of  his 
wonted  kindliness,  invited  me,  in  1859,  to  his  house, 
and  thus  recalled  the  old  days :  "  The  fact  of  my 
writing  this  from  a  sofa,  with  gout  in  both  legs, 
bespeaks  the  lapse  of  time  since  I  used  to  skurry  up 


196  PASSAGES    OF    A   WORKING   LIFE  I 

to  Windsor  to  M'Kechnie,  with  the  proofs  of  'The 
Etonian/ "  Mr.  Praed  came  to  the  printing-office 
less  frequently.  But  during  the  ten  months  of  the 
life  of  this  Miscellany — which  his  own  productions 
were  chiefly  instrumental  in  raising  to  an  eminence 
never  before  attained  by  schoolboy  genius  similarly 
exerted — I  was  more  and  more  astonished  by  the 
unbounded  fertility  of  his  mind  and  the  readiness 
of  his  resources.  He  wrote  under  the  signature  of 
"  Peregrine  Courtenay,"  the  President  of  "  The  King 
of  Clubs,"  by  whose  members  the  magazine  was 
assumed  to  be  conducted.  The  character  of  Pere 
grine  Courtenay,  given  in  "  An  Account  of  the  Pro 
ceedings  which  led  to  the  Publication  of  the  'Eto 
nian,'  "  furnishes  no  satisfactory  idea  of  the  youthful 
Winthrop  Mackworth  Praed,  when  he  is  described  as 
one  "  possessed  of  sound  good  sense,  rather  than  of 
brilliance  of  genius."  His  "general  acquirements 
and  universal  information  "  are  fitly  recorded,  as  well 
as  his  acquaintance  with  "  the  world  at  large."  But 
the  kindness  that  lurks  under  sarcasm ;  the  wisdom 
that  wears  the  mask  of  fun;  the  half-melancholy 
that  is  veiled  by  levity  ; — these  qualities  very  soon 
struck  me  as  far  out  of  the  ordinary  indications  of 
precocious  talent. 

It  is  not  easy  to  separate  my  recollections  of  the 
Praed  of  Eton  from  those  of  the  Praed  of  Cambridge. 
The  Etonian  of  1820  was  natural  and  unaffected  in 
his  ordinary  talk ;  neither  shy  nor  presuming;  proud, 
without  a  tinge  of  vanity ;  somewhat  reserved,  but 
ever  courteous  ;  giving  few  indications  of  the  suscep 
tibility  of  the  poet,  but  ample  evidence  of  the  laugh 
ing  satirist ;  a  pale  and  slight  youth,  who  had  looked 
upon  the  aspects  of  society  with  the  keen  perception 


THE    FIRST    EPOCH.  197 

of  a  clever  manhood ;  one  who  had,  moreover,  seen 
in  human  life  something  more  than  follies  to  be 
ridiculed  by  the  gay  jest  or  scouted  by  the  sarcastic 
sneer.  I  had  many  opportunities  of  studying  his 
complex  character.  His  writings  then,  especially  bis 
poems,  occasionally  exhibited  that  remarkable  union 
of  pathos  with  wit  and  humour  which  attested  the 
originality  of  his  genius,  as  it  was  subsequently  deve 
loped  in  maturer  efforts.  In  these  blended  qualities 
a  superficial  inquirer  might  conclude  that  he  was  .an 
imitator  of  Hood.  But  Hood  had  written  nothing 
that  indicated  his  future  greatness,  when  Praed  was 
pouring  forth  verse  beneath  whose  gaiety  and  quaint- 
ness  might  be  traced  the  characteristics  which  his 
friend  Mr.  Moultrie  describes  as  the  peculiar  attri 
butes  of  his  nature — 

"  drawing  off  intrusive  eyes 
From  that  intensity  of  human  lore 
And  that  most  deep  and  tender  sympathy 
Close  guarded  in  the  chambers  of  his  heart." 

The  Dream  of  Life. 

I  soon  had  many  opportunities  of  observing  the 
Praed  of  Eton  in  other  relations  than  those  of  our 
business  intercourse.  Whilst  the  first  number  of 
"  The  Etonian "  was  growing  into  shape,  I  often 
breakfasted  with  the  two  young  editors  in  Mr.  Blunt's 
room  out  of  the  College  bounds ;  it  being  then  the 
practice,  as  all  familiar  with  Eton  know,  for  the 
scholars  of  the  foundation  to  get  a  breakfast  as  they 
best  could  from  their  own  means,  or  go  without. 
There  were  sometimes  three  or  four  at  this  social 
meal.  I  had  perhaps  been  in  the  House  of  Lords, 
attending  the  Queen's  trial  on  the  previous  afternoon, 
and  could  tell  them  something  of  the  withering 


198  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE  : 

eloquence  of  Brougham  and  the  searching  subtlety 
of  Copley.  Praed  took  far  more  than  a  schoolboy's 
interest  in  the  questions  of  the  day,  and  his  sly  or 
sharp  commentary  would  show  how  well  he  under 
stood  them.  To  me  it  was  a  rare  pleasure  to  have 
an  occasional  companionship  with  these  fresh  young 
men,  so  fearless  in  the  expression  of  their  opinions ; 
so  frank  in  the  display  of  their  sympathies  or  anti 
pathies  ;  full  of  the  best  associations  of  ancient  learn 
ing  without  a  particle  of  pedantry ;  quizzing  each 
other  with  the  most  perfect  good  temper ;  passing 
rapidly  from  an  occasional  argument  of  mock  solem 
nity  to  talk  of  their  theatre  in  Datchet  Lane,  and 
"the  best  bat  in  the  school" — these  blithe  spirits, 
some  of  whom,  in  after  years,  might  be  wrangling  at 
Nisi  Prius,  or  struggling  in  the  muddy  waters  of 
party  politics.  Upon  these  Eton  days  Praed  looked 
lovingly  back  in  verses  which  he  wrote  for  me  when 
he  had  taken  his  place  in  the  great  world  : — 

"  I  wish  that  I  could  run  away 

From  house,  and  court,  and  levee, 
Where  bearded  men  appear  to-day 

Just  Eton-boys  grown  heavy  ; 
That  I  could  bask  in  childhood's  sun, 

And  dance  o'er  childhood's  roses  ; 
And  find  huge  wealth  in  one  pound  one, 

Vast  wit  in  broken  noses  ; 
And  play  Sir  Giles  at  Datchet  Lane, 

And  call  the  milk-maids  houris  ; — 
That  I  could  be  a  boy  again, 

A  happy  boy  at  Drary's." 

London  Magazine,  1829. 

A  boy  such  as  Praed,  who  possessed  his  genius, 
and  was  not  possessed  by  it  (as  I  once  heard  the 
great  Coleridge  say  in  comparing  the  peculiarities  of 


THE    FIRST    EPOCH.  199 

two  young  men),  was  sure  to  be  happy  at  Eton.  He 
was  in  every  respect  the  opposite,  in  certain  qualities 
which  may  be  called  physical  rather  than  intellectual, 
to  another  contributor  to  "The  Etonian."  William 
Sidney  Walker  was  in  1820  a  Fellow  of  Trinity  Col 
lege.  I  had  no  acquaintance  with  him  till  the  end 
of  1822,  but  I  saw  a  great  deal  of  him  in  after  years, 
both  at  Cambridge  and  in  my  family  circle.  I  may 
say  that  I  never  beheld  in  any  man,  even  of  the  lowest 
ability,  such  a  striking  example  of  the  every-day 
want  of  "  decision  of  character  " — that  most  valuable 
quality,  which  is  the  subject  of  one  of  Foster's  inte 
resting  "  Essays."  Irresolute,  even  in  the  most  trivial 
actions  of  life  ;  hesitating  in  the  utterance  of  the 
commonest  colloquial  forms  ;  utterly  incapable  of 
sustaining  a  share  in  conversation  even  amongst  his 
familiar  friends — Sidney  Walker  was  inferior  to  very 
few  in  some  of  the  higher  qualities  of  genius — second 
to  none  in  a  marvellous  power  of  memory — and, 
having  won  his  Fellowship  by  his  brilliant  scholar 
ship,  might  have  left  an  imperishable  .reputation,  if 
his  will  had  been  sufficiently  strong  to  counteract  the 
morbid  tendencies  of  his  feelings.  As  an  Eton  boy, 
there  was  no  one  in  the  school  who  had  given  such 
an  early  promise  of  poetical  ability,  apart  from  his 
school  studies.  At  seventeen,  his  epic  poem  of  "  Gus- 
tavus  Vasa"  was  published  by  subscription.  And 
yet  this  wonderful  boy  was  the  subject  of  the  direst 
persecution  by  the  common  herd  of  his  schoolfellows. 
Mr.  Moultrie,  who  was  his  junior  by  four  years,  has, 
in  a  beautiful  Memoir  prefixed  to  Walker's  "  Poetical 
Remains,"  described  him  at  Eton  as  flying  for  refuge 
from  his  tormentors,  even  into  the  private  apart 
ments  of  the  assistant-masters.  Another  friend,  Mr. 


200  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE  : 

Derwent  Coleridge,  alludes  to  this  victim  of  school 
boy-tyranny,  as  "one  of  the  very  largest  natural 
capacity,  whose  whole  moral  and  intellectual  nature 
had  been  dwarfed  arid  distorted  by  the  treatment  he 
received  at  school."  Mr.  Walker  had  a  profound 
admiration  for  female  loveliness,  and  yet  he  induced 
no  sentiment  but  pity  in  his  grotesque 'approaches  to 
ladies,  and  his  extraordinary  modes  of  testifying  his 
devotion.  When  one  of  the  most  beautiful,  as  well 
as  the  most  gifted,  women  of  her  time  appeared  at  a 
public  ball  at  Cambridge,  he  peered  into  her  face,  and 
clapped  his  hands  in  an  ecstasy  of  delight.  "  It  was 
the  joy  of  the  savage,"  said  Macaulay,  "  when  he  first 
sees  a  tenpenny  nail."  His  admiration  was  too  deep 
for  words.  I  once,  however,  witnessed  a  demonstra 
tion  at  a  social  meeting  of  his  friends  at  Trinity, 
which  took  every  one  by  surprise.  The  wine  was 
passing  round,  when  he  suddenly  jumped  upon  a 
chair,  and  flourishing  his  glass,  exclaimed,  "  The 
Greeks  !"  The  introduction  of  the  toast  by  the  most 
brilliant  harangue  of  Macaulay,  who  was  present, 
could  not  have  produced  a  more  profound  sensation. 
Incapable  as  he  was  of  expressing  it,  there  was  a 
tenderness  in  Walker's  appreciation  of  the  pure  and 
beautiful  in  Women,  as  there  was  of  loftiness  in  his 
estimate  of  the  heroic  in  Nations.  If  the  author  of 
"  The  Lover's  Song,"  in  "  The  Etonian,"  could  have 
spoken  as  he  wrote,  his  terror  of  a  life  of  perpetual 
celibacy  as  the  Fellow  of  a  College  might  have  been 
happily  ended,  in  spite  of  his  slovenly  dress,  his 
pirouetting  walk,  his  want  of  the  outward  attributes 
of  manliness.  When  "  the  toils  of  day  are  past  and 
done,"  and  he  invokes  the  image  of  his  "lost,  remem- 
ber'd  Emily,"  few  passages  of  the  best  amatory  lyrics 


THE   FIRST  EPOCH.  201 

may  compare  with  four  lines  of  this  exquisite  little 
poem : — 

"  Too  solemn  for  day,  too  sweet  for  night, 
Come  not  in  darkness,  come  not  in  light ; 
But  come  in  some  twilight  interim 
"When  the  gloom  is  soft  and  the  light  is  dim." 

Mr.  Praed  and  Mr.  Moultrie  were  the  life-long 
friends  of  this  unhappy  man.  Praed  made  the  most 
noble  exertions  to  clear  off  his  debts,  and  to  place 
him  above  actual  want,  when  he  had  lost  his  Fellow 
ship  from  his  honest  scruples  as  to  taking  Orders, 
bewildered  as  he  ever  was  by  his  habitual  scepticism 
on  all  subjects.  Moultrie  cherished  him  living,  and 
he  has  done  justice  to  his  memory  when  dead — 
touching  lightly  upon  his  foibles — lamenting  over 
the  "  shapeless  wreck  "  of  a  lost  mind — 

"  by  what  mysterious  bane 
Of  physical  or  mental  malady 
Disordered,  none  can  tell." 

Dream  of  Life. 

Let  me  turn  to  Mr.  Moultrie  himself,  as  a  contri 
butor  to  "  The  Etonian." 

In  the  collected  edition  of  "  Poems  by  John  Moul 
trie,"  amongst  the  "Poems  composed  between  the 
years  1818  and  1828,"  there  are  found  those  most 
touching  and  graphic  lines  which  first  gave  assurance 
to  the  world  of  his  rare  qualities  as  a  poet.  "  My 
Brother's  Grave  "  is  one  of  those  outpourings  of  the 
heart  that  never  fail  to  command  human  sympathy. 
The  two  longer  poems  in  "  The  Etonian,"  of  "Godiva" 
and  "  Maimoune,"  are  not  reprinted  in  this  collection. 
When,  in  1837,  Mr.  Moultrie  was  looking  back  upon 
the  productions  of  1820,  he  might  probably  have 


202          PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE  : 

considered  that  the  occasional  levities  of  the  young 
student  of  nineteen  might  scarcely  be  deemed  fit  for 
republication  by  the  clergyman  of  six-and-thirty. 
Yet  it  is  to  be  regretted  that  these  poems  should  not 
have  been  preserved,  other  than  as  a  portion  of  a 
Miscellany  now  scarce  and  little  known.  The  same 
minute  and  careful  excisions  which  have  been  be 
stowed  upon  the  long  poem  of  "  Sir  Launfal "  (the 
"La  Belle  Tryamour"  of  "  Knight's  Quarterly  Maga 
zine")  might  have  given  these  two  productions  a 
wider  celebrity.  The  two  or  three  fragments  which 
are  republished  offer  no  adequate  idea  of  the  more 
than  cleverness  of  these  early  poems.  In  the  stanzas 
which  tell  the  well-known  story  of  the  gentle  lady  of 
Coventry,  there  are  passages  of  rare  beauty,  which 
may  justly  compete  with  the  "  Godiva  "  of  Tennyson, 
written  ten  years  afterwards.  "  Maimoune  "  is  more 
unequal ;  and  there  are  occasional  licences  in  it 
which  now  would  call  up  frowns  from  some,  which 
might  have  been  smiles  forty  years  ago.  But  the 
author  may  justly  claim  never  to  have  written  a 
verse  that  was  really  corrupting,  even  in  the  un- 
pruned  luxuriance  of  his  spring-time.  Looking  back 
upon  his  Eton  experiences  he  describes  his  chief 
poetical  characteristics : — 

"  If  my  song 

Hath  ever  found  its  way  to  gentle  hearts, 
Twas  by  the  nurture  and  development 
Of  dormant  powers,  then  first  and  only  found, 
That  its  wild  notes  were  fashioned  to  express 
A  natural  tenderness. " 

Dream  of  Life. 

Henry  Nelson  Coleridge  was  in  1820  a  scholar  of 
King's  College,  Cambridge.    At  the  time  when  he  was 


THE   FIRSsT   EPOCH.  203 

a  contributor  to  "The  Etonian"  he  had  given  evidence 
of  his  great  abilities  and  scholarship,  by  winning  two 
of  Sir  William  Brown's  medals — one  for  the  Greek 
ode  and  one  for  the  Latin  ode.  His  poetical  faculty, 
although  not  of  a  common  order,  was  less  remarkable 
than  his  literary  taste.  The  nephew  of  Samuel 
Taylor  Coleridge,  his  admiration  of  those  who  were 
then  sneered  at  as  "the  Lake  School"  was  only 
natural.  But-  it  required  some  courage  in  the  young 
critic  to  stand  up  to  defend  Wordsworth  and  Cole 
ridge  from  that  never-ceasing  ridicule  of  the  Edin 
burgh  Reviewers,  which,  it  appears,  was  in  some 
favour  at  Eton.  He  did  more  than  this.  He 
endeavoured  to  explain  and  illustrate  Wordsworth  as 
a  very  singular  and  peculiar  poet,  quite  set  apart 
from  the  troop  of  every-day  metrists,  and  living  and 
breathing  in  a  world  of  his  own.  When  Wordsworth 
was  then  spoken  of  as  a  great  poet,  the  ordinary 
question  was,  "  Why  is  he  not  more  popular?"  The 
process  through  which  public  opinion  gradually  turns 
from  an  ephemeral  popularity,  permanently  to  repose 
upon  works  of  imagination  that  are  not  extravagant 
stimulants,  is  admirably  illustrated  by  his  own  expe 
rience  : — "I  remember  distinctly,  when  ' Lalla  Rookh' 
first  came  out,  I  read  it  through  at  one  sitting.  To 
say  I  was  delighted  with  it  is  a  poor  word  for  my 
feelings ;  I  was  transported  out  of  myself — entranced, 
or  what  you  will.  The  men  did  not  appear  to  me 
half  fierce  and  beautiful  enough,  and  the  women  had 
nothing  in  their  eyes  at  all  like  those  of  the  gazelle ; 
— not  to  mention  that  the  flowers  were  very  meagre, 
and  the  wind  cold,  and  the  chapel-organ  out  of  tune, 
and  '  the  blessed  Sun  himself '  but  a  poor  substitute 
for  the  god  of  the  Guebres.  This  seems  extravagant, 


204  PASSAGES   OF   A  WORKING   LIFE: 

and  yet  I  believe  that  many  a  young  heart  has  felt 
nearly  the  same,  if  those  feelings  were  uttered. 
Well — after  a  few  days  it  occurred  to  me  as  some 
thing  very  odd  that  I  had  no  patience  now  with  old 
Homer,  or  Virgil,  or  even  Milton,  and  scarcely  with 
Shakspere  ; — they  were  not  transporting  enough. 
This  made  me  reflect  upon  the  causes  which  could 
work  such  a  revolution  in  me ;  for  I  used  to  think 
the  aforesaid  poets  the  very  first  in  their  lines,  and 
lo  !  now  a  greater  than  they  had  swept  them  out  of 
my  favour  !  After  the  cooling  interval  of  three  weeks 
I  sat  down  to  read  this  book  again — but  oh  !  'quan 
tum  mutatus  ab  illo  Hectare ! '  I  cannot  describe 
my  feelings,  but  suffice  it  to  say,  the  potent  charm 
had  vanished  ;  but  still  I  was  bewitched  in  a  minor 
degree  by  the  glare  and  dazzle  of  the  scenery  and 
the  music  of  the  versification.  Will  you  believe  me, 
that  a  whole  year  afterwards  I  read  this  same  book  a 
third  time  ;  and  then  I  felt  and  knew,  as  all  will  feel 
and  know  who  will  take  the  trouble  of  making  the 
experiment,  that  the  only  parts  of  the  work  that  are 
worth  a  farthing  are  precisely  those  which  are  the 
simplest,  the  most  plain,  and  free  from  the  beauties  of 
the  author,  and  which,  on  that  very  account,  I,  on  iny 
first  acquaintance  with  him,  disliked  or  neglected." 

Henry  Coleridge,  by  his  republication  of  "The 
Friend,"  and  other  materials  for  a  proper  estimation 
of  his  illustrious  uncle's  labours,  testified  in  his 
maturer  years  a  profound  admiration  of  his  character 
as  a  philosopher  and  a  critic.  But  the  Cambridge 
scholar,  while  regarding  him  as  the  greatest  poetical 
genius  of  that  day,  does  not  hesitate  to  ask,  "  Where 
are  we  to  find  in  Mr.  Coleridge's  philosophy  that 
solid,  sensible  ground  upon  which  we  may  venture  to 


THE   FIRST  EPOCH.  205 

build  up  an  abiding-place  for  our  doubts  and  our 
desires  ?"  Such  are  the  changes  which  years  produce 
in  every  mind  in  which  the  process  of  educating 
itself  is  always  going  on. 

There  were  altogether  fifteen  contributors  to  "The 
Etonian."  I  have  mentioned  the  more  prominent. 
But  there  was  no  one  who,  in  the  extent  and  variety 
of  his  articles,  approached  Mr.  Praed.  They  occupy 
more  than  a  fourth  of  the  whole  Miscellany.  His 
prose  contributions  are  far  less  striking  than  his 
poetical.  His  verse  bore  a  remarkable  resemblance 
to  his  handwriting.  It  was  the  most  perfect  cali- 
graphy  I  ever  beheld.  No  printer  could  mistake  a 
word  or  letter.  It  was  not  what  is  called  a  running- 
hand,  and  yet  it  was  written  with  rapidity,  as  I  have 
often  witnessed.  Such,  too,  was  the  flow  and  finish 
of  his  compositions.  In  the  poems  which  earliest 
appeared  in  "The  Etonian"  we  scarcely  trace  that 
peculiar  vein  which  peeps  out  in  his  later  verse  in 
the  same  work.  And  yet  these  first  of  a  numerous 
series  are  essentially  different  from  the  common  run 
of  classical  imitations  or  juvenile  sentimentalities. 
"  The  Eve  of  Battle  "  is  an  example.  Eighteen  hun 
dred  and  twenty  was  sufficiently  nigh  the  year  of 
Waterloo  to  have  suggested  recollections  of  many  an 
Etonian  who  there  fell.  For  those  who  closed  their 
career  in  the  Crimea  there  is  a  memorial-window  at 
Eton.  Praed's  poem  is  most  probably  a  memorial, 
in  some  particulars,  of  real  persons  who  had  left 
memories  of  their  happy  boyhood.  Yet  how  strik 
ingly  has  he  varied  their  characters  !  There,  is  "the 
beau  of  battle  ;"  there,  is  the  would-be  poet,  who 
"  on  the  fray  that  is  to  be"  is  writing  "  a  Dirge  or 
Elegy ;"  there,  is  "  the  merriest  soul  that  ever  loved 


206  PASSAGES    OF    A    WOKKING   LIFE: 

the  circling  bowl ;"  there,  is  "  Etona's  wild  and  way 
ward  -son"  who  will  "break  Frenchmen's  heads, 
instead  of  Priscian's ;"  there,  is  "  Sir  Matthew  Chase," 
in  whose  dreams  "  blood  and  blood-horses  smoke  by 
turns."  How  unlike  the  thoughts  of  eighteen  is  the 
description  of  a  youth  who  was  "  all  by  turns,  and 
nothing  long : " — 

"  A  friend  by  turns  to  saints  and  sinners, 
Attending  lectures,  plays,  and  dinners, 
The  Commons'  House,  and  Common  Halls, 
Chapels  of  ease, — and  Tattersall's; 
Skilful  in  fencing  and  in  fist, 
Blood — critic— jockey — methodist; 
Causeless  alike  in  joy — or  sorrow, 
Tory  to-day  and  Whig  to-morrow, 
All  habits  and  all  shapes  he  Avore, 
And  lov'd,  and  laugh' d,  and  pray'd,  and  swore." 

In  the  eighth  Number  of  "  The  Etonian ,"  Praed 
found  out  his  forte  of  poetical  narrative,  in  which  the 
legendary  stories  of  the  old  Komances  are  told  with 
touches  of  wit  and  humour,  far  more  effective  than 
the  coarse  burlesque  of  such  forgotten  modernizations 
as  "  The  Dragon  of  Wantley."  As  an  example  of 
his  clever  management  of  antithetical  images  take 
these  lines  of  "Gog:" 

"  Oh  !  Arthur's  days  were  blessed  days, 
When  all  was  wit,  and  worth,  and  praise  ; 
And  planting  thrusts  and  planting  oaks, 
And  cracking  nuts  and  cracking  jokes, 
And  turning  out  the  toes  and  tiltings, 
And  jousts,  and  journeyings,  and  jiltings. 
Lord  !  what  a  stern  and  stunning  rout 
As  tall  Adventure  strode  about, 
Rang  through  the  land  ;  for  there  were  duels 
For  love  of  dames  and  love  of  jewels ; 
And  steeds  that  carried  knight  and  prince 
As  never  steeds  have  carried  since  ; 


THE   FIRST    EPOCH.  207 

And  heavy  lords  and  heavy  lances  ; 
And  strange  unfashionable  dances ; 
And  endless  bustle  and  turmoil, 
In  vain  disputes  for  fame  and  spoil. 
Manners  and  roads  were  very  rough  ; 
Armour  and  beeves  were  very  tough ; 
And  then — then  brightest  figures  far 
In  din  or  dinner,  peace  or  war — 
Dwarfs  sang  to  ladies  in  their  teens, 
And  giants  grew  as  thick  as  beans  ! " 

Mr.  Praed  left  Eton  for  Trinity  College  at  the 
summer  vacation  of  1821.  In  his  parting  poem  of 
"  Surly  Hall"  he  thus  apostrophizes  Eton  : 

"  A  few  short  hours,  and  I  am  borno 
Far  from  the  fetters  I  have  worn  ; 
A  few  short  hours,  and  I  am  free  ! 
And  yet  I  shrink  from  liberty ; 
And  look,  and  long  to  give  my  soul 
Back  to  thy  cherishing  control. 
Control  !  ah,  no  !  thy  chain  was  meant 
Far  less  for  bond  than  omament ; 
And  though  its  links  be  firmly  set, 
I  never  found  them  gall  me  yet. 
Oh  !  still,  through  many  chequer'd  years, 
'Mid  anxious  toils,  and  hopes,  and  fears, 
Still  I  have  doted  on  thy  fame, 
And  only  gloried  in  thy  name." 

In  Mr.  Moultrie's  "  Maimoune/'  of  the  same  conclud 
ing  Number  of  "The  Etonian,"  he  half  seriously 
alludes  to  the  approaching  privation  of  that  vehicle 
for  his  poetical  effusions  which  had  grown  out  of  the 
manuscript  "College  Magazine"  which  he  conducted. 
"  Sweet  Muse,"  he  says, 

"  'Tis  a  sad  bore  to  have  thy  fancies  pent 
"Within  my  brain — all  joys  of  printing  flown — 
No  praise  my  dear  anonymous  state  to  sweeten, 
And  all  because  some  folks  are  leaving  Eton." 


208  PASSAGES    OF    A    WORKING   LIFE  I 

In  the  concluding  Number  of  "  The  Etonian"  the 
list  of  fifteen  Contributors  is  signed,  as  Editors,  by 
"Walter  Blunt,  Winthrop  Mackworth  Praed."  In  a 
parting  address,  Peregrine  Courtenay  thus  gracefully 
records  his  obligations  to  his  editorial  coadjutor: 
"  Most  of  all,  I  have  to  speak  my  feelings  to  him, 
who,  at  my  earnest  solicitations,  undertook  to  bear 
an  equal  portion  of  my  fatigues  and  my  responsi 
bility, — to  him,  who  has  performed  so  diligently  the 
labours  which  he  entered  upon  so  reluctantly, — to 
him,  who  has  been  the  constant  companion  of  my 
hopes  and  fears,  my  good  and  ill  fortune, — to  him, 
who,  by  the  assiduity  of  his  own  attention,  and  the 
genius  of  the  contributors  whose  good  offices  he 
secured,  has  ensured  the  success  of  '  The  Etonian/  " 

Deeply  did  I  regret  my  separation  from  two 
or  three  with  whom  an  intimacy  had  grown  up, 
which,  in  spite  of  the  differences  of  ages  and  pur 
suits,  was  something  higher  than  the  cold  inter 
course  of  business.  Some  months  had  passed  away. 
Mr.  Praed  was  now  a  Brown's  medallist  for  the 
Greek  ode  and  for  Epigrams.  In  December, 
1822,  I  received  from  him  a  letter  which  materially 
influenced  my  determination  to  enter  upon  a  new 
career  :  "  I  shall  labour  in  no  periodical  vocation 
until  you  publish  one  in  which  I  can  be  of  service 
to  you ;  and  divers  other  Etonians  long  to  hear 
of  your  happy  establishment  in  town."  I  spent 
a  week  most  pleasantly  at  Cambridge.  I  was  wel 
comed  by  a  knot  of  young  men  who  belonged,  as 
one  of  them  has  described,  to 

"  a  generation  nobler  far 
Than  that  which  went  before  it — more  athirst 
For  knowledge — more  intent  on  loftiest  schemes 


THE   FIKST   EPOCH.  209 

And  purposes  of  good — and  if  more  prone 
To  daring  speculation — apt  to  tread 
More  venturous  paths — yet  purer  from  the  stain 
Of  gross  and  sensual  vice." 

The  Dream  of  Life. 

In  addition  to  those  I  had  previously  known  in  con 
nexion  with  "  The  Etonian,"  I  was  introduced  to  Mr. 
Derwent  Coleridge,  Mr.  Maiden,  and  Mr.  Macaulay. 
It  was  a  cold  and  wet  season,  but  I  was  well  pleased 
to  wander  with  such  intelligent  guides  amongst  those 
venerable  buildings,  which  had  then  lost  little  of 
their  antique  character;  to  look  into  libraries  and 
museums  ;  to  see  something  of  the  observances  of 
College  life,  in  prayers  at  Chapel  and  dinners  in 
Hall ;  to  ride  to  Ely  along  slushy  causeways,  which 
were  in  parts  flooded  by  the  waters  of  the  fens,  with 
baby-windmills  striving  to  keep  them  down.  In 
the  mornings  there  were  pleasant  breakfasts  and 
luncheons  ;  in  the  evenings  cheerful  wine-parties, — 
and  sometimes  the  famous  milk-punch  of  Trinity 
and  of  King's.  But  there  was  no  excess.  Amongst 
my  enjoyments  the  general  plan  of  "  Knight'a 
Quarterly  Magazine"  was  settled. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


HE  title  of  our  projected  work  had  not  been 
decided  when  contributions  reached  me, 
sufficient  in  number  and  quality  to  indi 
cate  that  my  Cambridge  friends  were 
thoroughly  in  earnest.  The  "English  Magazine" 
was  rather  a  favourite  name  with  us.  I  scarcely 
recollect  how  "Knight's  Quarterly  Magazine"  was 
adopted ;  but  there  appears  to  have  been  no  doubt 
upon  the  point  when  Mr.  Praed  sent  me  his  opening 
article,  called  "  Castle  Yernon."  A  very  singular 
paper  it  was,  quite  removed  from  the  ordinary  tone 
of  what  Leigh  Hunt  has  somewhere  designated  as 
the  most  amiable  but  least  interesting  part  of  a  book. 
The  only  prospectus  which  I  issued  was  an  extract 
from  this  eccentric  Introduction : 

"  To  the  Lady  Mary  Yernon,  the  Mistress  of  all 
Harmony,  the  Queen  of  all  Wits,  the  Brightest 
of  all  Belles,  we,  the  undersigned,  send 
greeting : 

"  We,  the  undersigned,  are  a  knot  of  young  men, 
of  various  forms  and  features — of  more  various  talents 
and  inclinations  ;  agreeing  in  nothing,  save  in  two 
essential  points — a  warm  liking  for  one  another,  and 
a  very  profound  devotion  for  your  Ladyship. 

"  Some  of  us  have  no  occupation. 
"  Some  of  us  have  no  money. 


THE   FIRST   EPOCH.  211 

"  Some  of  us  are  desperately  in  love. 

"  Some  of  us  are  desperately  in  debt. 

"  Many  of  us  are  very  clever,  and  wish  to  convince 
the  Public  of  the  fact. 

"  Several  of  us  have  never  written  a  line. 

"Several  of  us  have  written  a  great  many,  and 
wish  to  write  more. 

"  For  all  these  reasons,  we  intend  to  write  a  Book. 

"  We  will  not  compile  a  lumbering  quarto  of  Tra 
vels,  to  be  bound  in  Russia,  and  skimmed  in  the 
Quarterly,  and  bought  by  the  country  book-clubs  ; — 
nor  a  biting  Political  Pamphlet,  to  be  praised  by 
everybody  on  one  side,  and  abused  by  everybody  on 
the  other,  and  read  by  nobody  at  all ; — nor  a  Philo 
sophical  Essay,  to  be  marvelled  at  by  the  few,  and 
shuddered  at  by  the  many,  and  prosecuted  by  His 
Majesty's  Attorney-General  ; — nor  a  little  Epic 
Poem  in  twenty-four  books,  to  be  loved  by  the 
milliners,  and  lauded  in  the  '  Literary  Gazette/  and 
burnt  by  your  Ladyship. 

"  But  a  Book  of  some  sort  we  are  resolved  to  write. 
We  will  go  forth  to  the  world  once  a  quarter,  in  high 
spirits  and  handsome  type,  and  a  modest  dress  of 
drab,  with  verse  and  prose,  criticism  and  witticism, 
fond  love  and  loud  laughter;  everything  that  is  light 
and  warm,  and  fantastic,  and  beautiful,  shall  be  the 
offering  we  will  bear ;  while  we  will  leave  the  Nation 
to  the  care  of  the  Parliament,  and  the  Church  to  the 
Bishop  of  Peterborough.  And  to  this  end  we  will 
give  up  to  colder  lips  and  duller  souls  their  gross  and 
terrestrial  food  ;  we  will  not  interfere  with  the  saddle 
or  the  sirloin,  the  brandy-bottle  or  the  punch-bowl ; 
— our  food  shall  be  of  the  spicy  curry  and  the  glisten 
ing  champagne  ;  our  inspiration  shall  be  the  thanks 


212  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE: 

of  pleasant  voices,  and  the  smiles  of  sparkling  eyes. 
We  grasp  at  no  renown — we  pray  for  no  immortality; 
but  we  trust,  that  in  the  voyage  it  shall  be  our  destiny 
to  run,  we  shall  waken  many  glowing  feelings,  and 
revive  many  agreeable  recollections  ;  we  shall  make 
many  jokes  and  many  friends  ;  we  shall  enliven  our 
selves  and  the  public  together  ;  and  when  we  meet 
around  some  merry  hearth  to  discuss  the  past  and 
the  future,  our  projects,  and  our  success,  we  shall 
give  a  zest  to  our  bottle  and  our  debate  by  drinking 
a  health  to  all  who  read  us,  and  three  healths  to  all 
who  praise." 

Twenty-five  signatures  followed  this  address  to 
"  the  idol  before  whom  they  were  to  prostrate  their 
hearts  and  their  papers."  Some  eight  or  ten  of  these 
noms  de  guerre  clung  to  the  real  men  during  their 
connexion  with  the  Magazine.  Take  as  the  more 
distinguished  examples : — 

PEREGRINE  COTJRTENAY  )    _ 

VYVYAN  JOTEUSE    .     .   j    ^INTHROP  MACKWOBTH  PEAED. 

GERARD  MONTGOMERY.  JOHN  MOULTRIE. 

DAVENANT  CECIL    .    .  DERWENT  COLERIDGE. 

TRISTRAM  MERTON  .    .  THOMAS  BABINGTON  MACAULAY. 

EDWARD  HASELFOOT  .  WILLIAM  SIDNEY  WALKER. 

HAMILTON  MURRAY     .  HENRY  MALDEN. 

JOSEPH  HALLER.    .     .  HENRY  NELSON  COLERIDGE. 

Peregrine  Courtenay  was  the  signature  of  Praed  in 
"  The  Etonian."  Vyvyan  Joyeuse  was  the  one  he 
adopted  for  his  gay  and  laughing  moods  in  the 
"Quarterly  Magazine."  The  name  was  in  accord 
ance  with  the  description  of  him  who  bore  it,  when 
he  was  called  up  to  explain  to  Lady  Mary  and  her 
coterie  the  meaning  of  the  address  which  had  been 
presented  to  her  :  "  '  You  shall  call  nobody  but  me/ 


THE    FIRST    EPOCH.  213 

cried  a  shrill  voice  ;  '  you  shall  call  nobody  but  me, 
Vyvyan  Joyeuse  ! '  And  immediately  a  whimsical 
apparition  leaped  with  an  opera  step  into  the  front  of 
the  battalia ;  a  tall  thin  youth,  with  long  sallow  fea 
tures  ;  thick  brown  hair  curled  attentively,  and  small 
gray  eyes.  He  threw  a  quick  shifting  glance  upon 
his  auditors,  and  then,  dangling  the  ribbon  of  his 
glass  with  both  hands,  stood  prepared  for  his  in 
terrogator."  Christopher  North  introduced  Vyvyan 
Joyeuse  into  his  "Noctes,"  when  he  described  the 
Magazine  as  "  a  gentlemanly  Miscellany,  got  together 
by  a  clan  of  young  scholars,  who  look  upon  the  world 
with  a  cheerful  eye,  and  all  its  on-goings  with  a  spirit 
of  hopeful  kindness."  There  is  another  portrait 
drawn  by  Praed,  in  which,  as  in  many  sketches  ap 
proaching  to  caricature — such  as  those  of  H.  B.  forty 
years  ago — we  may  trace  the  best  likenesses  of  emi 
nent  men  who  lived  on  into  another  generation : 

"  '  Tristram  Merton,  come  into  court.'  There  came 
up  a  short  manly  figure,  marvellously  upright,  with 
a  bad  neckcloth,  and  one  hand  in  his  waistcoat- 
pocket.  Of  regular  beauty  he  had  little  to  boast ; 
but  in  faces  where  there  is  an  expression  of  great 
power,  or  of  great  good  humour,  or  of  both,  you  do 
not  regret  its  absence. 

" '  They  were  glorious  days,'  he  said,  with  a  bend, 
and  a  look  of  chivalrous  gallantry  to  the  circle  around 
him,  '  they  were  glorious  days  for  old  Athens  when 
all  she  held  of  witty  and  of  wise,  of  brave  and  of 
beautiful,  was  collected  in  the  drawing-room  of 
Aspasia.  In  those,  the  brightest  and  the  noblest 
times  of  Greece,  there  was  no  feeling  so  strong  as  the 
devotion  of  youth,  no  talisman  of  such  virtue  as  the 
smile  of  beauty.  Aspasia  was  the  arbitress  of  peace 


214  PASSAGES   OF    A   WORKING   LIFE  : 

and  war,  the  queen  of  arts  and  arms,  the  Pallas  of 
the  spear  and  the  pen  :  we  have  looked  back  to  those 
golden  hours  with  transport  and  with  longing.  Here 
our  classical  dreams  shall  in  some  sort  wear  a  dress  of 
reality.  He  who  has  not  the  piety  of  a  Socrates, 
may  at  least  fall  down  before  as  lovely  a  divinity ; 
he  who  has  not  the  power  of  a  Pericles  may  at  least 
kneel  before  as  beautiful  an  Aspasia/ 

"  His  tone  had  just  so  much  earnest  that  what  he 
said  was  felt  as  a  compliment,  and  just  so  much 
banter  that  it  was  felt  to  be  nothing  more.  As  he 
concluded  he  dropped  on  one  knee,  and  paused. 

" '  Tristram/  said  the  Attorney-General,  '  we  really 
are  sorry  to  cramp  a  culprit  in  his  line  of  defence  ; 
but  the  time  of  the  court  must  not  be  taken  up.  If 
you  can  speak  ten  words  to  the  purpose ' 

"  '  Prythee,  Frederic,'  retorted  the  other,  '  leave 
me  to  manage  my  own  course.  I  have  an  arduous 
journey  to  run  ;  and,  in  such  a  circle,  like  the  poor 
prince  in  the  Arabian  Tales,  I  must  be  frozen  into 
stone  before  I  can  finish  my  task  without  turning  to 
the  right  or  the  left/ 

" '  For  the  love  you  bear  us,  a  truce  to  your 
similes :  they  shall  be  felony  without  benefit  of 
clergy  ;  and  silence  for  an  hour  shall  be  the  penalty/ 

" '  A  penalty  for  similes !  horrible  !  Paul  of 
Russia  prohibited  round  hats,  and  Chihu  of  China 
denounced  white  teeth  ;  but  this  is  atrocious  ! ' 

"  '  I  beseech  you,  Tristram,  if  you  can  for  a  moment 
forget  your  omniscience,  let  us ' 

"'I  will  endeavour.  It  is  related  of  Zoroaster, 
that '" 

Others  of  the  "knot  of  young  men — of  various 
forms  and  features,  of  more  various  habits  and  incli- 


THE   FIRST   EPOCH.  215 

nations,"  were  called  before  "the  Mistress  of  all 
Harmony."  There  was  Cecil,  of  whose  character  no 
idea  could  be  conveyed  in  the  compass  of  a  few  lines, 
"  except  that  which  will  be  naturally  associated  with 
a  highly-flushed  cheek,  and  a  magnificent  forehead, 
and  thick  black  hair."  There  were  others  whose 
names  figured  in  the  address  who  were  not  called  at 
all.  Mr.  Peregrine  Courtenay  "  having  said  a  few 
words  in  kind  remembrance  of  his  quondam  passages 
with  Mr.  C.  Knight,"  it  was  resolved  that  "  the  most 
entertaining  publication  of  the  day  be  immediately 
set  on  foot,  under  the  title  of  '  Knight's  Quarterly 
Magazine.'  "  But  there  was  no  chance  of  coming  to 
a  conclusion  upon  the  question,  "  who  was  to  edite 
the  work  ? "  The  publisher  drifted  into  the  editor 
ship,  much  against  his  will ;  but  if  his  anomalous 
power  had  its  pains,  it  had  also  its  pleasures. 

There  is  perhaps  no  happiness  of  the  editorial  life 
equal  to  that  of  first  reading  the  manuscript  of  a  con 
tributor  in  which  original  genius  is  so  manifest  that 
none  but  a  blockhead  would  venture  upon  an  altera 
tion.  I  have,  however,  seen  a  little  of  such  block 
heads  in  my  day — real  live  editors,  obtuse  and 
prosaic  as  the  mysterious  Mr.  Perkins  of  the  Shak- 
spere  folio.  Very  early  amongst  the  contributions 
came  "  La  Belle  Tryamour,"  which  Mr.  Moultrie 
described  as  "the  threatened  Beppo,"  which,  if 
I  thought  it  too  long,  or  had  better  matter  to 
supply  its  place,  I  was  to  pack  off  without  ceremony. 
I  did  not  avail  myself  of  the  permission.  One  con 
tribution  of  no  common  order  was  at  least  secured. 
In  a  week  or  two  followed  a  prose  contribution. 
Those  who  do  not  possess,  or  cannot  obtain — even  at 
such  cost  as  that  of  works  figuring  in  old  catalogues 


216  PASSAGES    OF    A    WORKING    LIFE! 

as  rare — the  "  Quarterly  Magazine,"  which  the  intel 
ligent  public  of  forty  years  ago  did  not  exactly 
appreciate,  may  find  the  noble  "Fragments  of  a 
lloman  Tale  "  preserved  from  oblivion  in  the  "  Mis 
cellaneous  Writings  of  Lord  Macaulay."  They  may 
also  find  there  an  article  on  "  The  Royal  Society  of 
Literature."  If  they  should  not  care  to  trace  how 
the  scheme  of  patronage  for  the  incubation  of  great 
authors  was  mauled  by  one  who  was  to  take  the 
foremost  rank  amongst  those  who  have  but  one 
patron,  the  public,  he  may  be  struck  with  the  apo 
logue  that  clenches  the  argument.  "About  four 
hundred  years  after  the  deluge,  when  King  Gomer 
Chephoraod  reigned  in  Babylon, — and  was  so  popular 
that  the  clay  of  all  the  plains  round  the  Euphrates 
could  scarcely  furnish  brick-kilns  enough  for  his 
eulogists,  at  a  time  when  all  authors  inscribed  their 
compositions  on  massive  bricks — this  beneficent 
Prince  was  petitioned  that  he  should  take  order  that 
his  people  should  only  drink  good  wine.  A  decree 
was  passed  that  great  rewards  should  be  bestowed 
upon  the  man  who  should  make  ten  measures  of  the 
best  wine.  The  examiners,  assembled  to  judge  the 
wine,  decided  that  all  sent  in  was  little  better  than 
poison.  There  had  been  a  singularly  good  season, 
but  the  only  bad  wine  was  that  tasted  by  the  judges. 
Who  can  explain  this?  said  the  King.  An  old 
philosopher  then  came  forward,  and  spoke  thus : 

"  '  Gomer  Chephoraod,  live  for  ever  !  Marvel  not  at 
that  which  has  happened.  It  was  no  miracle,  but  a 
natural  event.  How  could  it  be  otherwise  ?  It  is 
true  that  much  good  wine  has  been  made  this  year  ; 
but  who  would  send  it  in  for  thy  rewards  ?  Thou 
knowest  Ascobaruch,  who  hath  the  great  vineyards 
10 


THE   FIRST   EPOCH.  217 

in  the  north,  and  Cohahirotb,  who  sendeth  wine  every 
year  from  the  south  over  the  Persian  Gulf.  Theii 
wines  are  so  delicious  that  ten  measures  thereof  are 
sold  for  an  hundred  talents  of  silver.  Thinkest  thou 
that  they  will  exchange  them  for  thy  slaves  and  thine 
asses  ?  What  would  thy  prize  profit  any  who  have 
vineyards  in  rich  soils  ? ' 

" '  Who,  then,'  said  one  of  the  judges,  '  are  the 
wretches  who  sent  us  this  poison  ? ' 

" '  Blame  them  not/  said  the  sage,  '  seeing  that 
you  have  "been  the  authors  of  the  evil.  They  are 
men  whose  lands  are  poor,  and  have  never  yielded 
them  any  returns  equal  to  the  prizes  which  the  King 
proposed.  Wherefore,  knowing  that  the  lords  of  the 
fruitful  vineyards  would  not  enter  into  competition 
with  them,  they  planted  vines,  some  on  rocks,  and 
some  in  light  sandy  soil,  and  some  in  deep  clay. 
Hence  their  wines  are  bad.  For  no  culture  or  re 
ward  will  make  barren  land  bear  good  vines.  Know, 
therefore,  assuredly,  that  your  prizes  have  increased 
the  quantity  of  bad  but  not  of  good  wine.' 

"  There  was  a  long  silence.  At  length  the  King 
spoke.  '  Give  him  the  purple  robe  and  the  chain  of 
gold.  Throw  the  wine  into  the  Euphrates  ;  and  pro 
claim  the  Royal  Society  of  Wines  is  dissolved.'  " 

There  was  another  prose  article  by  Mr.  Macaulay 
in  the  first  number  of  the  Magazine  which  has  not 
been  reprinted.  The  evil  which  was  there  combated 
with  unusual  energy  was  remedied  when  the  young 
writer,  who  had  been  bred  up  in  the  doctrines  of  the 
school  of  Wilberforce  to  which  his  father  belonged, 
had  become  a  legislator.  It  was  before  the  days  of 
his  political  responsibility  that  he  thus  introduced 
the  article  on  "West  Indian  Slavery": — "We  espouse 


218  PASSAGES    OF    A   WORKING   LIFE  I 

no  party.  Zadig  himself  did  not  listen  to  the  memo 
rable  controversy  about  Zoroaster  and  his  griffins 
with  more  composure  and  impartiality  than  we  hope 
to  display  on  most  of  the  subjects  which  interest 
politicians.  We  are  neutrals."  To  write  against 
Slavery  seemed  likely  to  have  interested  "  the  Clap- 
ham  sect "  in  the  "  Quarterly  Magazine  " — perhaps 
fco  have  induced  them  to  tolerate  even  its  occasional 
levity.  Painful  must  have  been  the  struggle  when 
Macaulay  felt  himself  compelled  to  secede  after  the 
publication  of  the  first  number.  But  how  honourable 
to  his  memory  is  the  letter  which  he  addressed  to  me, 
and  which  this  conviction  would  alone  induce  me  to 
publish  : — 

"  Rothley  Temple,  Leicestershire, 
June  20,  1823. 

"  My  dear  Sir, — As  I  fear  that  it  will  be  impossible 
for  me  to  contribute  to  your  Magazine  for  the  future, 
I  think  it  due  to  you  and  to  myself  to  acquaint  you, 
without  reserve,  of  the  circumstances  which  have 
influenced  me. 

"  You  are  probably  aware  that  there  are  among  my 
family  connections  several  persons  of  rigidly  religious 
sentiments.  My  father,  in  particular,  is,  I  believe, 
generally  known  to  entertain  in  their  utmost  extent 
what  are  denominated  evangelical  opinions.  Several 
articles  in  our  first  number,  one  or  two  of  my  own  in 
particular,  appeared  to  give  him  great  uneasiness. 
I  need  not  say  that  I  do  not  in  the  slightest  degree 
partake  of  his  scruples.  Nor  have  I  at  all  dissembled 
the  complete  discrepancy  which  exists  between  his 
opinions  and  mine.  At  the  same  time,  gratitude, 
duty,  and  prudence,  alike  compel  me  to  respect  pre 
judices  which  I  do  not  in  the  slightest  degree  share. 


THE    FIRST    EPOCH.  219 

And,  for  the  present,  I  must  desist  from  taking  any 
part  in  the  '  Quarterly  Magazine.' 

"The  sacrifice  gives  me  considerable  pain.  The 
Magazine  formed  a  connecting  tie  between  me  and 
some  very  dear  friends,  from  whom  1  am  now  sepa 
rated,  probably  for  a  very  long  time  ;  and  I  should 
feel  still  more  concerned  if  I  could  imagine  that  any 
inconvenience  could  result  from  my  conduct. 

"  I  shall  probably  be  in  London  in  about  a  month. 
I  will  then  explain  my  motives  to  you  more  fully. 
In  the  meantime,  I  can  only  say  that  all  that  has 
passed  between  us  increases  my  regrets  for  the  ter-  < 
mination  of  our  connection,  and  my  wishes  that  it 
may  be  renewed  under  more  favourable  circum 
stances. 

"  Let  me  beg  that  you  will  communicate  what  I 
have  said  to  nobody  excepting  Coleridge,  Moultrie, 
Praed,  and  Maiden  ;  and  to  them  under  the  injunc 
tion  of  secrecy. 

"  Believe  me,  my  dear  Sir,  yours  sincerely, 
"T.  B.  MACAULAY." 

Derwent  Coleridge,  who  has  been  addressed  by  his 
bosom  friend  as 

"  A  poet's  child,  thyself  a  poet  born," 

contributed  "  Beauty,  a  Lyrical  Poem."  Henry 
Nelson  Coleridge  sent  a  paper  full  of  deep  thought 
eloquently  expressed,  "  Scibile," — a  paper  which  De 
Quincey,  writing  to  me  some  months  after  its  publi-' 
cation,  regarded  as  truly  admirable.  Henry  Maiden 
furnished  a  graceful  Italian  tale,  "  Agostino  della 
Monterosa,"  in  which  the  romantic  superstitions  of 
the  Middle  Ages  are  reproduced  with  the  complete- 


220  PASSAGES    OF    A   WORKING    LIFE: 

ness  of  a  full  knowledge.  He  describes  an  enthusiast 
whose  mind  was  subdued  by  the  arts  of  a  false  friend 
to  believe  in  "  the  secrets  of  the  Rosy  Cross,  and  of 
those  spirits  of  the  elements  who  pervade  all  that  we 
hear  and  see  and  touch,  although  we  hear  them  not, 
and  see  them  not,  and  feel  them  not," — (a  nobler 
form  of  credulity,  it  seems  to  me,  than  a  belief  in 
spirits  whose  presence  is  indicated  by  rapping  and 
table-lifting) — to  believe  in  tales  of  unhappy  spirits 
lingering  over  graves  and  charnel-houses,  of  unquiet 
tenants  of  the  tomb;  of  mighty  magicians.  "He 
pored  over  ancient  chronicles,  and  read  of  the  black 
Boy  who  was  the  attendant  of  Julius  Ca3sar,  and  who, 
though  he  lived  many  years,  grew  never  the  older  ; — 
of  the  strange  knight,  who  came,  sore  spent  with 
travel,  on  a  huge-boned  mulberry-coloured  horse,  to 
the  court  of  Charlemagne  ;  and  no  one  knew  his 
name  or  lineage,  or  whence  he  came,  yet  he  was  ever 
with  the  Emperor,  who  did  nothing  that  he  did  with 
out  his  counsel,  save  when  he  went  down  to  the  great 
battle  of  Roncesvalles  ;  and  the  strange  knight  went 
into  the  battle,  and  came  not  out  of  it,  yet  was  not 
his  body  found  among  the  slaughtered  Paladins  ; — 
and  of  the  deaf  and  dumb  dwarf  with  the  yellow 
beard,  who  had  the  secret  ear  of  the  Soldan  Saladin, 
and  went  with  him  wherever  he  went,  save  into  the 
holy  city  of  Jerusalem.  On  tales  as  wild  as  these  he 
suffered  his  mind  to  dwell  with  a  blind  and  visionary 
faith,  and  he  was  filled  with  a  vague  and  anxious 
longing  for  such  supernatural  converse."  The  power 
displayed  in  this  tale  might  almost  lead  one  to 
lament  that  such  qualities  of  genius  should  have 
merged  into  a  life  of  unambitious  usefulness,  did  we 
not  know  that  in  such  a  life — that  of  the  trainer 


THE   FIRST   EPOCH.  221 

of  the  young  to  sound  learning,  that  of  a  teacher 
commanding  obedience  through  love — the  truest 
happiness  and  honour  are  to  be  found. 

The  smaller  poetical  contributions  of  the  Magazine 
were  to  be  grouped  in  a  concluding  paper,  entitled, 
"  What  you  will."'  In  the  first  number  we  have  some 
exquisite  Sonnets  by  Moultrie,  which  have  been 
reprinted  in  his  collected  Poems.  We  have  one  of 
Praed's  charming  Enigmas.  We  have,  what  no  one 
would  expect  to  find,  amatory  verses  by  Tristram 
Merton,  who  might  perhaps  have  rivalled  "  Tom 
Moore,"  had  he  not  been  born  for  higher  things.  It 
is  almost  needless  to  say  that  there  is  no  reprint  in 
"  Lord  Macaulay's  Miscellaneous  Works "  of  the 
ballad  of  which  we  give  two  stanzas  : — 

"  Oh  Rosamond  !  how  sweet  it  were,  on  some  fine  summer  dawn, 
With  thee  to  wander,  hand  in  hand,  upon  the  dewy  lawn, 
When  flowers   and    heaps  of    new-mown    grass    perfume   the 

morning  breeze, 
And  round  the   straw-built  hive  resounds   the   murmur  of  the 

bees  ; 

To  see  the  distant  mountain-tops  empurpled  by  the  ray, 
And  look  along  the  spreading  vale  to  the  ocean  far  away  ; 
O'er  russet  heaths,  and  glancing  rills,  and  massy  forests  green, 
And  curling  smoke  of  cottages,  and  dark  grey  spires  between. 

' '  And  oh  !  how  passing  sweet  it  were,  through  the  long  sunny  day, 
To  gaze  upon  thy  lovely  face,  to  gaze  myself  away, 
While  thou  beneath  a  mountain-ash,  upon  a  mossy  seat, 
Shouldst  sing  a  low  wild  song  to  me,  reclining  at  thy  feet ! 
And  oh  !  to  see  thee,  in  some  mood  of  playful  toil,  entwine 
Round  the  green  trellice  of  our  bower  the  rose  and  eglantine, 
Still  laying  on  my  soul  and  sense  a  new  and  mystic  charm 
At  every  turn  of  thy  fairy  shape  and  of  thy  snowy  arm  !" 

The  secession  of  Macaulay  was  felt  by  all  of  us  as 
an  almost  irreparable  loss.  There  was  one  of  our 
band  whose  energies  were  ever  called  forth  with  new 


222  PASSAGES    OF    A    WORKING    LIFE: 

vigour  under  pressure  and  difficulty.  Praed  had  that 
confidence  in  his  own  powers  which  is  at  the  root  of 
all  greatness,  and  which  is  far  removed  from  the 
vanity  of  mediocrity.  Amidst  the  disappointments 
which  had  arisen,  he  wrote  to  me  to  entreat  that  I 
would  not  think  of  postponing  the  appearance  of  the 
second  number.  "For  myself,  I  will  give  night  and  day 
to  the  Magazine,  rather  than  see  it  so  assassinated." 
He  amply  redeemed  his  pledge.  He  produced  for 
that  number  more  than  a  fourth  of  the  whole — the 
first  canto  of  his  Poem  "  The  Troubadour/'  and  five 
prose  articles.  My  other  Cambridge  allies  seconded 
his  endeavours.  But  I  had  also  looked  around  me 
amongst  my  own  old  familiar  friends.  Such  a  friend 
was  Matthew  Hill.  We  had  often  planned  literary 
enterprises  in  concert,  in  the  days  when  the  young 
barrister  was  struggling,  as  most  lawyers  have  to 
struggle,  when  the  collar  presses  hard  upon  the  weak 
but  willing  horse  if  he  be  permitted  to  work,  and 
when  hope  deferred  presses  still  harder  when  no 
profitable  work  falls  in  his  way.  Of  those  times  my 
friend  had  vivid  recollections,  and  he  gave  utterance 
to  them  in  "  My  Maiden  Brief  " — that  paper  to  which 
an  eminent  judge  alluded  from  the  bench,  and  nodded 
kindly  to  the  stuff  gown  in  the  back  rows.  Hill 
contributed  also  a  very  striking  picture  of  the 
Staffordshire  Collieries  — »  of  that  dreary  country 
through  which  I  walked  some  thirty  years  after 
wards  with  Charles  Dickens,  and  saw  whence  he 
had  derived  one  of  the  most  telling  scenes  of  the 
wanderings  of  "  Little  Nell."  But  Mr.  Hill's  vocation 
was  to  describe  the  people  of  this  region.  He  thus 
concludes  his  paper  : — "I  wished  to  preserve  some 
sketch,  while  the  original  is  yet  in  existence,  of  a 


THE    FIRST    EPOCH.  223 

race  which  refinement,  that  fell  destroyer  of  charac 
ter,  has  hitherto  spared.  Soon  will  these  be  tales  of 
other  times.  The  primitive  simplicity  even  of  the 
collieries  is  threatened.  Already  have  the  eyes  of 
Bell  and  Lancaster  searched  out  this  spot  of  innocent 
seclusion ;  and  the  voice  of  education  will  ere  long 
be  heard  above  the  wild  untutored  sounds  which 
have  so  long  charmed  the  ears  of  the  traveller."  I 
am  not  sure  that  "  the  voice  of  education "  is  yet 
very  powerful  in  the  land  where  the  dwellers  had 
"  no  similarity  either  in  speech  or  features  with  the 
peasantry  of  the  neighbouring  districts."  If  my 
friend  could  spare  a  day  or  two  from  other  depart 
ments  of  "  Social  Science,"  it  might  be  worth  while 
for  him  to  go  over  the  ground  once  more,  to  compare 
1823  with  1863. 

In  this  second  number  of  the  Magazine  I  wrote 
a  paper,  upon  which  I  may  not  improperly  say  a 
little,  as  it  in  some  measure  related  real  incidents 
of  my  Working  Life.  "  An  unpublished  Episode  of 
Vathek  "  is  reprinted  in  my  volumes  of  "  Once  upon 
a  Time."  Mr.  Rutter,  an  enterprising  bookseller  of 
Shaftesbury,  had  proposed  to  me  to  publish  a  splen 
didly  illustrated  work,  which  he  was  preparing,  on 
Fonthill,  soon  after  the  period  when  the  wondrous 
building,  of  which  every  one  had  some  marvel  to 
relate  but  which  no  one  had  ever  seen,  was  thrown 
open  to  those  who  chose  to  travel  over  Salisbury 
Plain,  and  pay  a  guinea  for  the  long-coveted  sight. 
Bekfudi,  says  my  tale,  the  superb  merchant,  had 
gone  on  for  many  moons  building  and  embellishing 
his  mosque,  and  living  in  a  round  of  selfish  enjoy 
ment.  But  gradually  Bekfudi  found  there  was  a 
limit  to  his  extravagance.  Bekfudi  was  in  debt. 


224  PASSAGES   OF    A   W011K1JSG   LIFE: 

"  He  resolved  to  invite  all  Samarah  to  see  his  mosque, 
and  purchase  his  curiosities.  For  three  moons  all 
Samarah  went  mad.  Away  ran  the  idle  and  the 
busy  to  scramble  up  Bekfudi's  tower, — to  wander 
about  his  long  galleries  upon  carpets  from  Cairo, 
— to  touch  his  gold  censers,  or  to  pore  upon  his 
curious  pictures.  As  to  his  books,  Bekfudi  carefully 
locked  them  up.  He  was  a  great  commentator,  and 
his  relish  for  theological  speculations  led  him  to  fear 
that  his  performances  might  introduce  him  to  too 
close  an  acquaintance  with  the  mufti  and  the  cadi." 
I  was  amongst  the  curious,  and  had  an  agreeable 
holiday.  But  some  months  later  I  went  to  Fonthill 
to  assist  the  worthy  quaker  bookseller  of  Shaftesbury 
in  getting  up  his  quarto.  Fonthill  had  then  passed 
into  the  possession  of  Mr.  Farquhar,  in  the  negotia 
tion  for  which  purchase  Mr.  Phillips,  the  famous 
auctioneer  of  Bond  Street,  was  the  agent.  He  stipu 
lated  for  the  purchase  of  Fonthill  and  everything 
which  it  contained  :  " '  I  will  purchase  thy  lands  and 
thy  mosques,  and  thy  silken  draperies,  and  thy  woven 
carpets,  and  thy  golden  vessels,  and  thy  jewels,  and 
thy  books,  and  thy  pictures,  and  all  that  thy  palace 
contains ;  and  here,  without,  I  have  twenty  drome 
daries  laden  with  four  hundred  thousand  sequins, 
which  shall  be  thine.'  Bekfudi  was  in  a  rage,  but 
the  eloquence  of  the  dromedaries  prevailed  ;  and 
that  night  the  little  Jew  locked  up  the  mosque  with 
the  airs  of  a  master."  At  this  juncture  I  went  to 
Fonthill.  Artists  were  there  making  drawings. 
Journalists  were  there  writing  elaborate  paragraphs, 
with  a  slight  tendency  to  puff.  My  friend  Stedman 
Whitwell  was  Avith  me,  and  we  rambled  freely  over 
the  American  gardens,  and  partook  of  the  choice 


THE   FJKST   EPOCH.  225 

fruit  of  the  hothouses,  and  had  a  sumptuous  table 
every  day.  To  me  the  ostensible  lord  of  the  place, 
the  clever  auctioneer,  was  particularly  civil.  The 
first  night  I  was  led  by  him  through  a  long  corridor 
apart  from  the  saloons  and  galleries  of  this  architec 
tural  marvel,  and  was  installed  in  a  chamber  of  state, 
where  the  hangings  of  the  bed  were  of  velvet,  and 
the  chairs  were  of  ebony  reputed  to  have  belonged  to 
Wolsey.  I  sat  in  a  reverie,  moralizing  upon  the 
probable  dispersion  of  these  splendid  things,  when  I 
heard  a  whirr — my  wax  candle  was  suddenly  extin 
guished — the  bat  that  had  dwelt  in  the  gorgeous 
draperies  was  hovering  about  me.  I  was  glad  to 
creep  into  the  downy  bed.  But  I  could  not  sleep. 
"  Why  rather,  sleep,  liest  thou  in  smoky  cribs  ? " 
There  were  others  to  whom  sleep  was  that  night 
more  difficult  to  be  secured  than  to  myself.  Two  or 
three  adventurous  artists — I  think  George  Cattermole 
was  of  the  number — elected  to  lodge  in  the  dormi 
tories  of  the  great  tower,  some  hundred  and  fifty  feet 
above  the  floor  from  which  it  sprang.  The  wind 
rose  ;  the  storm  grew  louder  and  louder ;  the  frail 
structure  rocked,  as  Gulliver's  cage  rocked  in  the 
eagle's  beak.  The  terrified  guests  rushed  down  the 
broad  stairs,  and  sat  drearily  in  the  dark  saloon  till 
the  daybreak  gave  them  assurance  of  safety.  But  I 
am  rambling  from  my  Episode  of  Vathek.  "  Within 
a  week  the  superb  merchant  began  to  indulge  a  wish 
for  the  possession  of  some  of  his  former  most  splendid 
baubles  ;  he  bethought  him  that  his  free  habit  of 
expressing  his  thoughts  in  the  broad  margins  of  his 
beautiful  manuscripts  might  one  day  cause  some 
awkward  inquiries."  I  was  taken  by  my  host  to  the 
Library.  "You  are  free,"  he  said,  "to  make  any 


226  PASSAGES    OF    A   WOKKING    LIFE: 

transcript  you  please  of  marginal  notes  on  these 
books.  I  have  sent  an  invitation  to  Hazlitt  to  come 
also  ;  but  I  hear  that  he  has  not  got  beyond  Winter- 
slow  Hut."  Something  was  whispered  about  a  new 
book,  to  be  called  "  Fly  Leaves  from  Fonthill."  My 
curiosity  was  roused,  though  I  shrank  from  making 
profit  by  book  or  article  out  of  my  notes.  In  truth, 
as  far  as  I  could  trace,  there  was  little  in  these 
volumes  to  alarm  their  annotator  or  interest  the 
public.  I  need  not  have  tested  my  conscience.  When 
the  Library  had  been  glanced  at  by  profane  eyes  the 
object  was  accomplished.  "  The  articles,"  says  the 
Episode,  "  were  selected,  but  the  little  Jew  had  yet 
to  name  the  price.  Bekfudi  raved  and  tore  his  hair 
when  a  fourth  of  his  four  hundred  thousand  sequins 
were  demanded  for  what  had  cost  even  him  not  a 
tenth  of  the  sum." 

The  second  number  of  the  Magazine  was  getting 
into  shape  in  the  middle  of  the  September  of  1823, 
although  its  publication  was  a  month  behind  its  due 
time.  With  me  this  was  a  pleasant  autumn.  Mr. 
Moultrie  had  come  to  reside  at  Eton.  We  had  friendly 
walks  together.  He  was  writing  the  second  Canto 
of  "  La  Belle  Tryamour,"  and  as  we  sat  on  the  lawn 
of  a  little  village  inn  he  was  rapidly  jotting  down 
his  verses.  In  a  piece  of  nonsense  which  I  also 
wrote  as  we  laughed  and  lounged,  I  said,  "  I  have 
seen,  as  I  watched  Gerard's  impassioned  countenance, 
the  infancy  of  a  thought  struggling  into  energy  in 
its  perilous  contest  with  the  fetters  of  a  rhyme,  and 
at  last  triumph  in  the  maturity  of  a  stanza."  Mr. 
Derwent  Coleridge  came  to  visit  Mr.  Moultrie.  He 
was  also  to  write  for  the  forthcoming  number.  I  dare 
say  he  forgave  me  when  I  ventured  to  say,  that 


THE    FIRST   EPOCH.  227 

before  he  went  to  work  "  Davenant  had  first  to  be 
delivered  of  a  theory  on  the  supernatural  creations  of 
Shakspere,  and  this  carried  us  to  Racine  and 
Voltaire,  Aristotle  and  Confucius  ;  a  slight  disserta 
tion  on  the  merits  of  the  Italian  Platonists  led  us  to 
Germany  ;  and  we  ended,  as  the  candles  were  brought, 
with  Kant  and  Jacob  Behmen." 

In  that  autumn  of  1823,  looking  back  through 
four  decades,  I  see  a  youth  of  twenty-two,  and  a 
man  ten  years  his  senior — one  who  had  given  "  hos 
tages  to  fortune " — anxiously  engaged  in  discussing 
all  the  circumstances  which  had  led  to  a  challenge  to 
fight  a  duel,  in  which  the  younger  was  to  be  one  of 
*he  principals.  My  wife  and  I  were  at  breakfast, 
when  Mr.  Praed  came  in,  looking  pale  and  anxious. 
He  begged  me  to  walk  out  with  him.  It  was  nearly 
the  end  of  the  term,  and  most  of  his  intimates  hatt 
left  Cambridge.  He  had  come  to  town  by  the  early 
coach,  having  arranged  for  a  hostile  meeting,  in 
London,  with  a  gentleman  with  whom  he  had 
quarrelled  the  night  before.  The  subject  of  differ 
ence  had  been  the  date  of  the  battle  of  Bunker's 
Hill.  The  heat  of  argument  had  been  so  great,  that 
the  three  unforgiveable  words  which,  spoken  in  Par 
liament,  always  sent  honourable  members  to  their 
hats,  had  been  uttered  by  him.  We  went  from 
house  to  house,  and  from  chamber  to  chamber,  to 
find  a  friend.  No  one  was  to  be  found.  No  one 
could  be  found.  Would  I  be  his  friend  ?  I  at  once 
consented,  for  I  was  determined  that,  if  possible, 
there  should  be  no  duel.  The  place  of  rendezvous 
was  the  Swan  with  two  Necks  in  Lad  Lane.  After 
a  little  suspense,  a  young  man  came  in,  who  was 
deputed  by  his  brother,  the  challenger,  to  make 


228  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE. 

the  needful  arrangements  with  Mr.  Praed's  friend. 
He  and  I  retired.  My  course  was  clear.  I  was 
instructed  not  to  tender  an  apology,  but  the  way, 
I  saw,  was  open  for  a  compromise.  Rustication, 
expulsion,  all  the  possible  dangers  of  a  meeting,  were 
nothing  to  the  horrors  of  a  younger  brother  standing 
by  to  see  his  elder  brother  shot  at ;  or  to  imagine  the 
possibility  of  both  of  them  appearing  in  the  dock  of 
the  Old  Bailey  on  their  trial  as  murderers.  I  con 
quered  at  last.  We  signed  a  paper  that  was  satis 
factory,  and  it  was  sent  under  cover  to  Mr.  Macaulay. 
Mr.  Praed  returned  to  Cambridge  by  the  afternoon 
coach.  A  few  hours  after  Mr.  William  Henry  Ord, 
then  a  Fellow  Commoner  of  Trinity,  arrived  at  my 
house  in  great  agitation.  He  was  soon  made  happy. 
He  had  come  up  to  London  in  all  haste  with  the 
Tutor  of  Trinity,  Mr.  Whewell.  To  Dick's  Coffee 
House  we  immediately  went,  to  relieve  the  appre 
hensions  of  this  eminent  scholar  and  man  of  science, 
then  rising  into  general  reputation.  We  spent  a 
happy  evening  together,  and  nothing  more  was 
heard  of  the  matter.  Mr.  Hill,  in  a  very  admirable 
paper  "  On  Duelling,"  in  our  first  number,  had  said — 
"  In  the  present  state  of  society,  the  total  abolition 
of  duels  cannot,  as  experience  abundantly  shows,  be 
effected."  God  be  praised,  the  "state  of  society" 
has  so  changed,  that  the  change  has  carried  with  it 
not  a  few  great  moral  as  well  as  political  reforms. 
The  Duel  has  become  as  much  a  thing  of  the  past  as 
the  Wager  of  Battle. 


CHAPTER  X. 

T  was  with  no  common  pleasure  that  I 
opened  a  letter  from  Mr.  Macaulay — a 
few  lines  to  say  that  he  was  ready  to  re 
sume  his  contributions  to  "The  Quarterly 
Magazine."  He  enclosed  two  Manuscripts.  These 
scarcely  filled  two  sheets  of  paper,  but  they  were 
as  precious  as  fine  gold.  Well  do  I  remember  the 
delight  with  which  I  read  with  a  friend  in  London, 
and  afterwards  heard  read  by  Mr.  Moultrie  at  Wind 
sor  in  a  way  in  which  few  could  read,  the  "  Songs 
of  the  Huguenots."  These  are  almost  as  well  known 
as  Campbell's  "Mariners  of  England"  and  "The 
Battle  of  the  Baltic."  The  "  Montcontour "  is  re 
printed  in  Macaulay's  "  Miscellaneous  Works " — 
the  "  Ivry  "  was  republished  by  himself  with  "  Lays 
of  Ancient  Rome."  But  they  ought  never  to  have 
been  separated.  There  is  a  dramatic  unity  in  the 
two  poems  which  makes  each  more  valuable.  The 
song  of  lamentation  should  be  read  before  the  song 
of  triumph. 

In  a  few  months  came  another  pair  of  lyrics,  which 
no  change  in  the  fashion  of  literature  can  ever  con 
sign  to  oblivion — "  Songs  of  the  Civil  War."  These, 
again,  ought  to  be  read  together.  "  The  Cavaliers' 
March  to  London"  has  not  been  reprinted  by  the 
author,  nor  in  his  "  Miscellaneous  Works." 


230  PASSAGES    OF    A   WOEKING    LIFE: 

The  return  of  Macaulay  was  the  herald  of  "  the 
most  high  and  palmy  state  "  of  the  Magazine,  when 
its  first  fruits  were  succeeded  by  a  rich  harvest. 
Macaulay  was  now  unquestionably  its  leading  spirit. 
In  the  third  number,  in  addition  to  his  "  Songs  of 
the  Huguenots,"  we  have  "  Scenes  from  Athenian 
Kevels"  and  "Dante."  In  the  fourth  number  we 
have,  as  well  as  "  Songs  of  the  Civil  War,"  the  criti 
cism  on  "  Petrarch,"  and  the  "  Great  Law-Suit  be 
tween  the  Parishes  of  St.  Dennis  and  St.  George  in  the 
Water."  This  is  something  more  than  an  imitation 
of  Swift.  Those  who  venerate,  and  most  justly,  the 
memory  of  Burke,  will  not  be  displeased  to  see  him 
in  a  caricature  portrait  as  effective  as  that  of  Gilray : 

"  There  was  an  honest  Irishman,  a  great  favourite 
among  them  [the  Vestry  of  St.  George  in  the  Water], 
who  used  to  entertain  them  with  raree-shows,  and  to 
exhibit  a  rnagic-lantern  to  children  on  winter  even 
ings.  He  had  gone  quite  mad  upon  this  subject 
[the  refractory  conduct  of  the  tenants  of  Sir  Lewis, 
the  Lord  of  the  Manor  of  St.  Dennis].  Sometimes  he 
would  call  out  in  the  middle  of  the  street — '  Take 
care  of  that  corner,  neighbours :  for  the  love  of 
Heaven,  keep  clear  of  that  post ;  there  is  a  patent 
steel-trap  concealed  thereabouts.'  Sometimes  he 
would  be  disturbed  by  frightful  dreams ;  then  he 
would  get  up  at  dead  of  night,  open  his  window, 
and  cry  '  fire/  till  the  parish  was  roused,  and  the 
engines  sent  for.  The  pulpit  of  the  parish  of  St. 
George  'seemed  likely  to  fall ;  I  believe  that  the 
only  reason  was,  that  the  parson  had  grown  too  fat 
and  heavy ;  but  nothing  would  persuade  this  honest 
man  but  that  it  was  a  scheme  of  the  people  of  St. 


THE   FIRST   EPOCH.  231 

Dennis's,  and  that  they  had  sawed  through  the 
pillars  in  order  to  break  the  rector's  neck.  Once  he 
went  about  with  a  knife  in  his  pocket,  and  told  all 
the  persons  whom  he  met,  that  it  had  been  sharpened 
by  the  knife-grinder  of  the  next  parish  to  cut  their 
throats.  These  extravagances  had  a  great  effect 
on  the  people,  and  the  more  so  because  they  were 
espoused  by  the  Squire  Guelf  s  steward,  who  was  the 
most  influential  person  in  the  parish.  He  was  a  very- 
fair-spoken  man,  very  attentive  to  the  main  chance, 
and  the  idol  of  the  old  women,  because  he  never 
played  at  skittles  or  danced  with  the  girls ;  and 
indeed  never  took  any  recreation  but  that  of  drink 
ing  on  Saturday  nights  with  his  friend  Harry,  the 
Scotch  pedlar.  His  supporters  called  him  Sweet 
William  ;  his  enemies  the  Bottomless  Pit." 

The  fifth  number  gave  us  "  The  Athenian  Orators ;" 
and  a  paper  which,  to  my  mind,  if  it  wants  some 
thing  of  the  force  of  the  great  article  on  Milton  in 
the  "  Edinburgh  Review,"  has  a  quiet  beauty  which 
is  even  superior.  The  "  Gentleman  of  the  Middle 
Temple,"  who  relates  a  "  Conversation  between  Mr. 
Abraham  Cowley  and  Mr.  John  Milton,  touching  the 
great  Civil  War,"  tells  us  how,  in  the  warm  and 
beautiful  spring  of  1665,  "  two  men  of  pregnant 
parts  and  great  reputation "  dined  with  him  at  his 
lodging  in  the  Temple. 

Macaulay,  in  the  height  of  his  fame,  looked  back 
upon  the  Conversation  between  Cowley  and  Milton 
with  a  just  pride.  And  yet  it  would  seem  that  he  could 
scarcely  have  felt,  when  he  thus  concluded  his  article 
on  "The  Athenian  Orators,"  that  there  was  something 
in  these  Magazine  papers  of  a  Cambridge  under-gra- 
duate  which  "  the  world  would  not  willingly  let  die." 

After  the  return  of  Mr.  Macaulay,  the  Quarterly 


232  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE: 

Magazine  went  on  flourishingly  to  the  completion  of 
the  fifth  number.  The  "  Troubadour  "  of  Mr.  Praed 
vied  with  the  "Tryamour"  of  Mr.  Moultrie.  Mr. 
Henry  Coleridge  produced  admirable  historical 
articles  on  "Mirabeau"  and  the  "Long  Parliament." 
Mr.  Maiden  wrote  papers  as  entertaining  as  they 
were  learned  on  "Lucian's  True  History,"  and  the 
"Literary  History  of  the  Provencals."  In  the  fourth 
number  appeared  "  The  Boeotian  Order  of  Architec 
ture" — an  article  upon  which  I  must  somewhat 
dilate,  for  the  purpose  of  referring  to  a  most  extraor 
dinary  attempt  to  restrain  the  liberty  of  opinion 
in  matters  of  taste.  The  case  of  "Soane  versus 
Knight/'  recorded  in  the  King's  Bench  Term  Reports, 
remains  as  a  warning  to  over-sensitive  artists  not  to 
sally  forth  with  the  heavy  ordnance  of  Law  to  do 
battle  against  the  "  light  artillery  "  of  Criticism. 

"  The  Boeotian,  or  Sixth  Order,"  professed  to  be 
an  analytical  account  of  a  work  on  the  principles  of 
Architecture,  almost  unknown  in  'this  country.  This 
production  of  the  great  Vander  von  Bluggen  set  forth 
canons  of  Art  which  had  not  been  lost  upon  a  few 
modern  architects,  and  which  were  illustrated  in 
their  practice.  Mr.  Soane,  although  his  name  was 
not  mentioned  in  the  article,  thought  fit,  in  1827,  to 
bring  an  action  against  me  for  the  libellous  matter 
contained  in  the  publication  of  1824.  The  cause 
was  tried  in  the  Court  of  King's  Bench  on  the  12th  of 
June,  1827.  The  array  of  counsel  for  the  plaintiff  was 
most  formidable — Mr.  Gurney,  Mr.  Brougham,  and 
two  juniors.  The  defendant  was  fortunate  in  having 
retained  Mr.  Scarlett  and  Mr.  Hill.  When  Mr.  Gurney 
solemnly  read  some  of  the  axioms  of  Vander  von  Blug 
gen.  contending  that  they  were  doubtless  intended 


THE    FIRST    EPOCH.  233 

to  apply  to  Mr.  Soane,  there  was  a  titter  throughout 
the  court.  I  was  sitting  near  Mr.  Brougham  (to 
whom  I  had"  been  introduced  in  the  previous  No 
vember),  and  looking  at  me  with  a  face  of  imper 
turbable  gravity,  he  whispered,  "  Oh  !  you  wicked 
fellow."  I  had  taken  some  pains  in  getting  up  what 
may  be  termed  the  literature  of  such  actions.  The 
sort  of  essay  which  was  embodied  in  the  brief  of 
"The  Defendant's  Case"  is  before  me.  I  scarcely 
need  say  that  Mr.  Scarlett  interpreted  the  matter  to 
the  jury  in  a  very  different  form,  though  much  of 
the  substance  of  his  speech  was  the  same  as  my  brief. 
There  was  not  the  least  hesitation  in  the  verdict 
being  for  the  defendant. 

In  the  fifth  number  of  the  "  Quarterly  Magazine  " 
there  appeared  a  miscellaneous  paper  entitled  "  The 
Anniversary."  It  was  a  vehicle  for  the  introduction 
of  a  considerable  variety  of  stray  contributions.  My 
article  had  little  of  originality  in  its  conception  ;  for 
Blackwood  had  published  something  similar,  occu 
pying  a  whole  number  of  his  Miscellany.  I  could 
scarcely  have  dreamt  that,  eight  and  twenty  years 
afterwards,  this  piece  of  merriment  would  have  been 
received  aw  pied  de  la  lettre;  that  in  a  Memoir  of 
Macaulay — "  with  some  account  of  his  early  and  un 
known  writings" — so  charming  a  simplicity  would 
have  been  manifested  by  this  "  shilling  "  biographer, 
as  to  demand  from  him  an  elaborate  abridgment  of 
the  narrative  of  what  he  terms  "a  jollification  amongst 
the  young  contributors"  to  "Knight's  Quarterly 
Magazine."  He  has,  however,  a  saving  clause  which 
may  cover  a  little  of  his  greenery — "  The  whole  affair 
may  have  been  heightened  by  the  pen  of  the  re 
porter." 

When   the   fifth   number   of  the   Magazine    was 


234  PASSAGES    OF    A    WOKKING    LIFE  I 

published  in  July,  1824,  I  had  become  acquainted 
with  Mr.  De  Quincey ;  and  he  had  contributed  a 
paper  translated,  as  he  purported,  from  the  German 
of  Laun,  called  "The  Incognito."  It  was  a  very  lively 
and  pleasant  paper ;  but  as  to  the  strict  fidelity  of 
the  translation  I  might  have  had  considerable  doubts. 
He  could  not  go  about  this  sort  of  work  without  im 
proving  all  he  touched.  In  November  he  was  engaged 
upon  a  translation  of  "  Walladmor,"  which  some  Curll 
of  Germany  advertised  as  the  translation  of  a  sup 
pressed  work  of  Sir  Walter  Scott.  Messrs.  Taylor 
and  Hessey  put  the  German  hoax  into  the  hands  of 
De  Quincey  to  be  re-translated.  I  saw  him  groaning 
over  his  uncongenial  labour,  by  which  he  eventually 
got  very  little.  It  was  projected  to  appear  in  three 
volumes.  He  despairingly  wrote  to  me,  "  after  weed 
ing  out  the  forests  of  rubbish,  I  believe  it  will  make 
only  one  decent  volume."  At  that  time  he  was  direly 
beset  with  visitations  more  terrible  than  the  normal 
poverty  of  authors.  A  little  before  I  knew  him  he 
had  come  one  morning  to  my  friend  Hill,  wet  and 
shivering,  having  slept  under  a  hayrick  in  the  Hamp- 
stead  fields.  I  have  a  letter  from  him  of  this  period, 
in  which  he  says,  "  anxiety,  long-continued  with  me — 
of  late  years  in  consequence  of  my  opium-shattering 
— seizes  on  some  frail  part  about  the  stomach,  and 
produces  a  specific  complaint,  which  very  soon  abo 
lishes  all  power  of  thinking  at  all."  In  "  The  An 
niversary"  I  thus  introduced  De  Quincey  :  "  A  short 
spare  figure,  with  an  expression  in  his  eye  that  at 
once  indicated  the  strength  of  the  man  of  genius  and 
the  weakness  of  the  valetudinarian,  advanced  with  a 
slow  pace  of  diffidence  towards  us,  and  thus  addressed 
us : — '  I  fear,  sir,  that  I  am  an  intruder  both  upon 


THE    FIBST    EPOCH.  235 

your  interesting  conversation  and  your  purposed  en 
joyments.  I  was  looking  round,  sir,  for  my  worthy 
friend,  Mr.  Paterson  Aymer.  By  his  cordial  invita 
tion  I  have  been  tempted  from  my  solitude,  to  join  a 
company  that  I  cannot  but  feel  desirous  of  knowing, 
though  I  fear  much  ine  weight,  the  heavy  and  un 
utterable  weight,  of  depression  that  bears  me  down, 
will  render  me  an  unfit  partaker  of  your  intellectual 
pleasures.  Oh,  sir,  even  now  do  I  feel  the  gnawings 
of  that  poison  with  which  I  have  drugged  my  veins. 
Fly  the  cursed  spell,  if  you  would  continue  to  know 
peace  of  mind  and  body.  But  you  will  excuse  me 
talking'  of  myself.'  We  all  looked  at  each  other 
with  surprise.  '  Can  it  be  ! '  was  on  every  tongue. 
'  May  I  venture  to  ask,  sir,  whom  I  have  the  honour 
of  seeing  amongst  us?  Though  Mr.  Paterson  Aymer 
be  not  yet  arrived,  his  friends  are  ours.'  '  My  name, 
sir,  is ;  but  you  have  heard  of  me  as  a  too- 
celebrated  Opium -Eater.'  We  all  involuntarily 
bowed;  and  in  two  minutes  Haller  and  our  illustrious 
friend  were  deep  in  a  discussion  on  political  economy, 
while  Murray  and  Tristram  appealed  to  him,  in  the 
intervals  of  the  debate,  upon  their  contrary  views  of 
the  knowledge  of  Greek  in  Europe  at  the  time  of 
Dante." 

The  Macaulay  biographer  receives  this  as  a  curious 
anecdote  of  De  Quincey,  which  "  indicates  that  he 
was  fast  changing  into  that  little  dried-up,  parch 
ment-hided  man  that  he  became  years  afterwards." 
This  it  is,  to  make  a  book  without  the  least  know 
ledge  of  the  men  and  things  of  which  it  treats. 
"  Dried-tip  I  parchment-hided  ! "  "  Oh,  for  one  hour 
of  Dundee  !"  One  hour  of  De  Quincey — better, 
three  hours  from  nine  till  midnight — for  a  rapt 


S3  6  PASSAGES    OF    A    WOKKING    LIFE  : 

listener  to  be  "under  the  wand  of  a  magician" — - 
spell-bound  by  his  wonderful  affluence  of  talk,  such 
as  that  of  the  fairy  whose  lips  dropped  rubies  and 
diamonds.  Many  a  night  have  I,  with  my  wife  by 
my  side,  sat  listening  to  the  equable  flow  of  his 
discourse,  both  of  us  utterly  forgetting  the  usual 
regularity  of  our  habits,  and  hearing  the  drowsy 
watchman's  "  past  one  o'clock "  (for  the  old  watch 
man  then  walked  his  round)  before  we  parted. 
There  was  another  newly  acquired  intimate  of  that 
time — Barry  St.  Leger — who  also  had  contributed 
to  the  "  Quarterly  Magazine."  Our  friendship  was 
of  the  warmest  nature  during  the  remainder  of  his 
too  short  life.  The  wit-combats  between  him  and 
De  Quincey  were  most  amusing.  Never  were  two 
men  greater  contrasts  in  their  intellectual  characters. 
The  one  passionately  rhetorical — the  other  calmly 
logical, — the  one  making  a  fierce  onslaught  upon  his 
apparently  unwatchful  opponent, — the  other  with  a 
slight  turn  of  his  wrist  striking  the  sword  out  of  his 
adversary's  hand,  leaving  him  defenceless.  In  the 
ordinary  intercourse  of  society,  St.  Leger  was  self- 
possessed,  perfectly  at  his  ease,  ready  for  every 
emergency,  a  man  of  the  world,  yet  with  a  heart  for 
friendship  as  warm  as  that  of  a  schoolboy.  De 
Quincey,  vast  as  were  his  acquirements,  intuitive  as 
was  his  appreciation  of  character  and  the  motives 
of  human  actions,  unembarrassed  as  was  his  demea 
nour,  pleasant  and  even  mirthful  his  table-talk,  was 
as  helpless  in  every  position  of  responsibility,  as 
when  he  nightly  paced  "stony-hearted  Oxford 
Street "  looking  for  the  lost  one.  He  was  constantly 
beset  by  idle  fears  and  vain  imaginings.  His  sensi 
tiveness  was  so  extreme,  in  combination  with  the 


THE    FIRST    EPOCH.  237 

almost  ultra-courtesy  of  a  gentleman,  that  he  hesi 
tated  to  trouble  a  servant  with  any  personal  re 
quests  without  a  long  prefatory  apology.  My  family 
were  in  the  country  in  the  summer  of  1825,  when 
he  was  staying  at  my  house  in  Pall  Mall  East.  A 
friend  or  two  had  met  him  at  dinner,  and  I  had 
walked  part  of  the  way  home  with  one  of  them. 
When  I  returned,  I  tapped  at  his  chamber-door  to 
bid  him  good  night.  He  was  sitting  at  the  open 
window,  habited  as  a  prize-fighter  when  he  enters  the 
ring.  "  You  will  take  cold,"  I  exclaimed.  "  Where 
is  your  shirt ?"  "I  have  not  a  shirt — my  shirts 
are  unwashed."  "  But  why  not  tell  the  servant  to 
send  them  to  the  laundress?"  "Ah  !  how  could  I 
presume  to  do  that  in  Mrs.  Knight's  absence  ?" 

One  more  illustration  of  the  eccentricity  of  De 
Quincey.  I  had  been  to  Windsor.  On  my  return  I 
was  told  that  Mr.  De  Quincey  had  taken  his  box 
away,  leaving  word  that  he  was  gone  home.  I 
knew  that  he  was  waiting  for  a  remittance  from 
his  mother,  which  would  satisfy  some  clamorous 
creditors  and  enable  him  to  rejoin  his  family  at 
Grasmere.  Two  or  three  days  after,  I  heard  that  he 
was  still  in  town.  I  obtained  a  clue  to  his  hiding- 
place,  and  found  him  in  a  miserable  lodging  on  the 
Surrey  side  of  Waterloo  bridge.  He  had  received 
a  large  draft  on  a  London  banker  at  twenty-one 
days'  sight.  He  summoned  courage  to  go  to  Lom 
bard  Street,  and  was  astonished  to  learn  that  he 
could  not  obtain  the  amount  till  the  draft  became 
due.  A  man  of  less  sensitive  feelings  would  have 
returned  to  Pall  Mall  East,  and  have  there  waited 
securely  and  comfortably  till  I  came.  How  to  frame 
his  apology  to  our  trusty  domestic  was  the  diffi- 


238  PASSAGES   OF    A   WORKING   LIFE  I 

culty  that  sent  him  into  the  den  where  I  found 
him.  He  produced  the  draft  to  me  from  out  cf 
his  Bible,  which  he  thought  was  the  best  hiding- 
place.  "Come  to  me  to-morrow  morning,  and  I 
will  give  you  the  cash."  "  What  ?  how  ?  Can  such 
a  thing  be  possible  ?  Can  the  amount  be  got  before 
the  draft  is  due  ?"  "  Never  fear — come  you — and 
then  get  home  as  fast  as  you  can." 

At  the  beginning  of  October  I  went  to  Cambridge 
with  Mr.  Hill.  We  arrived  on  a  day  of  jubilation, 
for  Mr.  Macaulay  and  Mr.  Maiden  had  each  gained 
a  Trinity  fellowship.  There  was  a  happy  dinner  in 
Mr.  Maiden's  rooms.  But  a  cloud  had  come  over 
the  bright  prospects  of  the  "  Quarterly  Magazine." 
Two  of  its  first  supporters  were  holding  back  their 
contributions.  "  Some  trick  not  worth  an  egg" — 
some  misunderstanding  about  the  future  editorship 
— had  produced  a  coldness  in  those  with  whom  I 
had  been  most  intimate.  I  was  weary  and  heartsick. 
I  was  worn  out  with  anxiety  at  the  dangerous  illness 
of  my  father.  Cares  of  business  were  pressing  upon 
me  heavily.  I  had  engaged  in  large  undertakings 
which  demanded  my  constant  attention  in  London, 
and  I  had  a  divided  duty  at  Windsor.  The  Magazine 
was  a  loss  and  a  trouble.  With  the  sixth  number 
I  determined  to  announce  that  its  career  was 
ended. 

I  had  spent  a  night  at  my  father's  bed-side. 
The  crisis  was  fast  approaching.  My  wife  had  been 
too  ill,  in  Pall  Mall  East,  to  take  her  willing  part  in 
this  sad  office — but,  at  all  risks,  she  came  in  time 
for  the  end.  As  the  November  sun  was  rising 
brightly  above  the  trees  of  the  Long  Walk,  I  poured 
out  to  her  my  thoughts  in  a  long  letter. 

The  future  of  my  London  life  loomed  dark  and 


THE    FIRST    EPOCH.  239 

dangerous.     My  mind  rested  upon  the  contented  past 
that  had  not  known  many  fears. 

Nel  mezzo  del  cammin  di  nostra  vita 
Mi  ritrovai  per  una  selva  oscura 
Che  la  diritta  via  era  smarrita. " 

DANTE— Inferno. 

"  In  the  midway  of  this  our  mortal  life 
I  found  me  in  a  gloomy  wood,  astray, 
Gone  from  the  path  direct." 

CART. 

Reserving  for  the  next  epoch  of  my  "Working 
Life "  the  recital  of  some  of  its  passages  in  my 
vocation  of  a  London  publisher  from  1823  to  1826,  I 
have  here  to  complete  my  notice  of  the  close  of  "  The 
Quarterly  Magazine."  A  glance  at  the  short  life  of 
a  second  series,  and  at  a  small  experiment  upon  the 
public  taste  which  was  attempted  by  me,  in  con 
junction  with  Mr.  Praed  and  Mr.  St.  Leger,  will  be 
briefly  given  in  the  present  volume. 

The  "  advertisement "  in  the  concluding  Number, 
wherein  I  announced  the  discontinuance  of  a  work 
which,  "  as  it  proceeded,  had  acquired  a  considerable 
distinction  amongst  the  discerning  and  the  intelli 
gent,"  was  certain  to  give  offence.  I  was  unwilling 
to  offend ;  but  I  was  sorely  wounded.  I  wrote — 
"The  publisher  has  lately  had  to  choose  between 
surrendering  that  responsibility  which  his  duties  to 
society  have  compelled  him  to  retain,  and  which  has 
in  many  cases  prevented  this  work  offending  those 
whose  esteem  is  most  to  be  desired,  or  losing  much 
of  the  assistance  which  has  given  to  the  '  Quarterly 
Magazine'  a  peculiar  and  original  character.  He 
could  not  hesitate  in  his  choice.  He  would  not 
commit  his  own  opinions  to  an  inexperienced  and 
11 


240  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE: 

incautious  dictation ;  and  he  prefers  the  discontinu 
ance  of  the  work  to  conducting  it  with  diminished 
talent." 

This  led  to  a  controversy.  An  article  appeared  in 
"The  Cambridge  Chronicle,"  written  by  Mr.  Praed. 
It  was  more  temperate  than  I  had  anticipated.  He 
described  the  Magazine  as  having  been  intended 
originally  to  assume  something  of  a  more  classical 
tone  than  its  periodical  contemporaries.  He  spoke 
of  the  publisher  as  an  honest  and  liberal  man, 
but  expressed  a  somewhat  disparaging  opinion  of 
his  competence  to  retain  the  direction  of  the  Ma 
gazine  permanently  and  exclusively.  I  replied  in 
the  same  newspaper.  There  was  a  correspondence 
between  Mr.  Praed  and  myself, — formal  and  reserved 
on  either  side.  Willingly  would  I  forget  the  whole 
affair,  did  I  not  feel  it  my  duty  and  pleasure  to 
record  that,  within  two  months,  Mr.  Praed  sponta 
neously  called  upon  me,  held  out  once  more  the  hand 
of  friendship,  and  never  afterwards  lost  an  opportu 
nity  of  testifying  his  goodwill  towards  me.  He  took 
no  part  in  the  continuation  of  the  "  Quarterly  Ma 
gazine."  In  the  editorship  of  its  one  number,  pub 
lished  in  the  autumn  of  1825,  Mr.  Maiden  assisted. 
In  its  general  tone  it  was  much  more  sober — and  of 
course  less  interesting — than  its  predecessor.  It 
might  have  made  its  way;  for  one  of  the  great  whole 
sale  houses  in  Paternoster  How  proposed  to  take  a 
share  in  it,  after  its  first  appearance.  The  Panic  came, 
and  disposed  of  this  and  of  many  other  schemes. 

Mr.  Derwent  Coleridge  had  returned  to  assist  in 
rearing  our  callow  Phoenix.  His  paper  on  "The 
Chevalier  Bayard "  is  curious,  as  showing  how  the 
romantic  may  gradually  slide  into  the  practical. 


THE    FIRST    EPOCH.  241 

De  Quinceyhad  written  to  me  in  December,  1824, 
in  the  belief  that,  as  he  expressed  it,  "  many  of 
your  friends  will  rally  about  you,  and  urge  you  to 
some  new  undertaking  of  the  same  kind.  If  that 
should  happen  I  beg  to  say,  that  you  may  count  upon 
me,  as  one  of  your  men,  for  any  extent  of  labour,  to 
the  best  of  my  power,  which  you  may  choose  to  com 
mand."  He  wrote  a  translation  of  "The  Love  Charm" 
of  Tieck,  with  a  notice  of  the  author.  This  is  not 
reprinted  in  his  collected  works,  though  perhaps  it 
is  the  most  interesting  of  his  translations  from  the 
German.  In  this  spring  and  summer  of  1825,  De 
Quincey  and  I  were  in  intimate  companionship.  It 
was  a  pleasant  time  of  intellectual  intercourse  for 
me.  My  father,  a  little  before  his  last  illness,  had 
far  advanced  in  building  a  cottage,  by  the  side  of 
his  own,  for  my  family  to  occupy.  That  hope  of  his 
heart  to  have  us  near  him  was  not  fulfilled.  But  in 
that  summer  we  spent  mujsh  of  our  time  there.  Mr. 
Praed  and  Mr.  Moultrie  were  living  at  Eton  as  private 
tutors.  They  had  taken  a  great  liking  to  my  friend 
Mr.  Tarver,  and  were  most  assiduous  in  promoting 
his  interests,  as  French  master  at  the  college. 
In  his  society,  after  he  came  to  reside  at  Windsoi 
when  the  war  was  at  an  end,  I  had  found  a  clevei 
and  accomplished  companion,  who  had  the  pecu 
liar  advantage  of  knowing  intimately  both  the 
French  and  English  languages,  and  was  familiar 
with  the  literature  of  both  countries.  He  was  born 
and  bred  up  in  France, — but  was  of  English  parents. 
Mr.  Maiden  came  to  visit  me  for  a  week  or  two.  There 
was  a  re-union  in  which  all  unpleasantnesses  were 
forgotten.  When  I  went  to  London,  I  was  associated 
with  Hill,  and  St.  Leger,  and  De  Quincey,  who  each 


PASSAGES    OF    A    WORKING    LIFE  I 

thoroughly  relished  the  conversation  of  the  others. 
De  Quincey,  as  I  have  incidentally  mentioned,  went 
away  home  in  the  summer  of  1825.  We  were  all 
truly  sorry  to  part  with  this  valued  friend,  whose 
eccentricities  made  him  even  more  dear  to  us — whose 
helplessness  under  the  direst  pressure  of  want  of 
means,  brought  no  feeling  of  contempt,  for  his  abili 
ties  and  learning  commanded  our  reverence.  We 
scarcely  knew  then  what  he  had  to  endure  during  his 
London  sojourn.  We  may  now  judge  of  his  miseries 
from  a  letter  which  he  wrote  to  Professor  Wilson  in 
February,  1825  :— 

"At  this  time  calamity  presses  upon  me  with  a 

heavy  hand At  this  moment  I  have  not  a 

place  to  hide  my  head  in."  (Mrs.  Gordon's  '  Christo 
pher  North,'  vol.  ii.  p.  79.)  He  left  London  in  the 
summer,  exulting  in  the  prospect  of  freedom  from 
debt,  and  from  the  necessity  that  had  pressed  upon 
him  "to  maintain  the  .war  with  the  wretched 
business  of  hack  author,  with  all  its  degradations." 
(Ibid.)  I  occasionally  had  a  warm-hearted  letter 
from  him;  but  our  correspondence,  after  a  year 
or  two,  had  ceased.  I  was  delighted  at  its  renewal 
in  July  1829,  when  he  wrote  me  the  most  pressing 
invitation  from  Mrs.  De  Quincey  and  himself, 
to  come,  with  my  wife  and  children,  to  visit 
them.  He  had  quitted  his  home  at  the  Lakes 
in  1827,  to  remain  in  Edinburgh  for  two  years, 
writing,  but  separated  for  the  greater  part  of  the 
time  from  his  family.  Wonderfully  characteristic 
are  some  passages  of  this  letter:  "Well,  by  good 
management  and  better  luck,  I  contrived  early  in 
this  present  year  to  silence  fmes  Anglois  (as  the 
French  do,  or  did,  use  to  entitle  creditors).  This 


THE    FIRST    EPOCH.  243 

odious  race  of  people  were  silenced,  I  say,  or  nearly 
so :  no  insolent  dun  has  raised  his  disgusting  voice 
against  me  since  Candlemas  1829  ;  they  now  speak 
softly,  and  as  if  butter  would  not  melt  in  their 
mouths  ;  and  I  have  so  well  planted  my  fire-engines, 
for  extinguishing  this  horrid  description  of  nuisance, 
that  if  by  chance  any  one  should  smoulder  a  little 
too  much  (flame  out,  none  durst  for  shame),  him  I 
shall  souse  and  drench  forthwith  into  quietness." 
Whilst  "  this  great  operation  "  was  in  progress  he 
had  been  negotiating  for  the  purchase  of  a  "rich 
farm-house,  flowing  with  milk  and  honey,  with  mighty 
barns  and  spacious  pastures,"  in  the  vicinity  of  his 
cottage  at  Grasmere.  "  '  Purchasing,'  you  say,  '  what 
the  devil  ? '  Don't  swear,  my  dear  friend  ;  you  know 
there  is  such  a  thing  as  buying  a  thing  and  yet  not 
paying  for  it,  or,  at  least,  paying  only  the  annual 
interest.  Well,  that  is  what  1  do,  can  do,  and  will 
do.  For  hear,  finally,  that  the  thing  is  done."  To 
this  farm  of  Bydal  Hay,  from  which  he  had  written 
to  me,  were  we  to  be  welcomed.  Mighty  was  the 
temptation,  but  mightier  the  difficulty  in  the  days 
before  railways.  "  And  now,  my  friend,  think  what 
a  glorious  El  Dorado  of  milk  and  butter  and  cream 
cheeses,  and  all  other  dairy  products,  supposing  that 
you  like  those  things,  I  can  offer  you  morning,  noon, 
and  night.  You  may  absolutely  bathe  in  new  milk, 
or  even  in  cream  ;  and  you  shall  bathe,  if  you  like  it. 
T  know  that  you  care  not  much  about  luxuries  for  the 
dinner  table  ;  else,  though  our  luxuries  are  few  and 
simple,  I  could  offer  you  some  temptations  :  mountain 
lamb  equal  to  Welsh  ;  char  famous  to  the  antipodes  ; 
trout  and  pike  from  the  very  lake  within  twenty-five 
feet  of  our  door  ;  bread,  such  as  you  have  never  pre- 


244  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE: 

sumed  to  dream  of,  made  of  our  own  wheat,  not  doctored 
and  separated  by  the  usual  miller's  process  into  fine 
insipid  flour,  and  coarse,  that  is,  merely  dirty-looking 
white,  but  all  ground  down  together — which  is  the  sole 
receipt  (experto  crede)  for  having  rich,  lustrous,  red- 
brown,  ambrosial  bread ;  new  potatoes,  of  celestial 
earthiness  and  raciness,  which,  with  us,  last  to  October ; 
and,  finally,  milk,  milk,  milk— cream,  cream,  cream 
(hear  it,  thou  benighted  Londoner  !)  in  which  you  must 
and  shall  bathe." 

In  the  spring  of  1826,  St.  Leger  and  I, — at  a  time 
when  there  was  little  prospect  of  publishing  books 
with  any  success, — thought  that  a  smart  weekly  sheet 
might  have  some  hold  upon  the  London  public,  who 
were  sick  of  all  money  questions,  and  wanted  some 
thing  like  fun  in  that  gloomy  season  of  commercial 
ruin.  We  went  to  Eton  to  consult  Praed.  He 
entered  most  warmly  and  kindly  into  the  project. 
We  settled  that  "  The  Brazen  Head  "  should  be  its 
title;  and  that  "  The  Friar"  and  "  The  Head"  should 
discourse  upon  human  affairs,  chiefly  under  the 
management  of  our  brilliant  associate.  For  our 
selves,  we  had  a  supplementary  machinery,  that  of 
"  Harlequin,"  whose  laughing  face  had  been  too  long 
hidden  by  a  wretched  black  mask,  and  who  had  been 
too  long  doomed  to  perpetual  silence, — a  woeful  con 
trast  to  the  overflowing  wit  of  his  dear  Italian  days. 
We  had  four  weeks  of  this  pleasantry  ;  and,  what  was 
not  an  advantage,  we  had  nearly  all  the  amusement 
to  ourselves  ;  for  the  number  of  our  purchasers  was 
not  "Legion."  Yet  in  the  "Brazen  Head"  there 
are  poems  of  Praed — (unknown,  from  the  scarcity 
of  these  sixty-four  pages,  to  the  Americans  who 
have  printed  three  editions  of  his  poems) — which 


THE   FIRST  EPOCH.  245 

are  every  way  worthy  of  that  genius  which  his 
countrymen  will  be  soon  permitted  more  fairly  to 
appreciate  in  an  edition  of  all  his  poetical  pieces, 
issued  by  an  English  publisher.  There  is  one 
poem  purporting  to  be  a  chaunt  of  The  Head  while 
the  Friar  falls  asleep,  which  exhibits  the  remark 
able  power  of  blending  earnestness  with  levity, 
philosophy  with  jest,  so  peculiarly  characteristic  of 
Praed's  happiest  vein : 

"  I  think,  whatever  mortals  crave, 

With  impotent  endeavour, 
A  wreath,— a  rank,— a  throne,— a  grave, — 

The  world  goes  round  for  ever  ; 
I  think  that  life  is  not  too  long, 

And  therefore  I  determine 
That  many  people  read  a  song, 

Who  will  not  read  a  sermon. 

"  I  think  you've  look'd  through  many  hearts, 

And  mused  on  many  actions, 
And  studied  man's  component  parts, 

And  nature's  compound  fractions  ; 
I  think  you've  picked  up  truth  by  bits 

From  foreigner  and  neighbour, 
I  think  the  world  has  lost  its  wits, 

And  you  have  lost  your  labour. 

"  I  think  the  studies  of  the  wise, 

The  hero's  noisy  quarrel, 
The  majesty  of  woman's  eyes, 

The  poet's  cherish' d  laurel ; 
And  all  that  makes  us  lean  or  fat, 

And  all  that  charms  or  troubles, — 
This  bubble  is  more  bright  than  that^ 

But  still  they  all  are  bubbles. 

"  I  think  the  thing  you  call  Renown, 

The  unsubstantial  vapour 
For  which  the  soldier  burns  a  town, 
The  sonnetteer  a  taper, 


246  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE: 

Is  like  the  mist  which,  as  he  flies, 
The  horseman  leaves  behind  him  ; 

He  cannot  mark  its  wreaths  arise, 
Or,  if  he  does,  they  blind  him. 

"  I  think  one  nod  of  mistress  Chance 

Makes  creditors  of  debtors, 
And  shifts  the  funeral  for  the  dance, 

The  sceptre  for  the  fetters  ; 
I  think  that  Fortune's  favour' d  guest 

May  live  to  gnaw  the  platters; 
And  he  that  wears  the  purple  vest 

May  wear  the  rags  and  tatters. 

"  I  think  the  Tories  love  to  buy 

'  Your  Lordships '  and  '  Your  Graces,' 
By  loathing  common  honesty, 

And  lauding  common-places  ; 
I  think  that  some  are  very  wise, 

And  some  are  very  funny, 
And  some  grow  rich  by  telling  lies, 

And  some  by  telling  money. 

"  I  think  the  "Whigs  are  wicked  knaves, 

And  very  like  the  Tories, 
Who  doubt  that  Britain  rules  the  waves, 

And  ask  the  price  of  glories ; 
I  think  that  many  fret  and  fume 

At  what  their  friends  are  planning, 
And  Mr.  Hume  hates  Mr.  Brougham 

As  much  as  Mr.  Canning. 

"I  think  that  friars  and  their  hoods, 

Their  doctrines  and  their  maggots, 
Have  lighted  up  too  many  feuds, 

And  far  too  many  faggots  ; 
I  think  while  zealots  fast  and  frown, 

And  fight  for  two  or  seven, 
That  there  are  fifty  roads  to  town, 

And  rather  more  to  Heaven. 

"  I  think  that,  thanks  to  Paget's  lance, 

And  thanks  to  Chester's  learning, 
The  hearts  that  burned  for  fame  in  France, 
At  home  are  safe  from  burning  j 


THE   FIRST   EPOCH.  247 

I  think  the  Pope  is  on  his  back, 
And,  though  'tis  fun  to  shake  him, 

I  think  the  Devil  not  so  black 
As  many  people  make  him. 

"  I  think  that  Love  is  like  a  play 

Where  tears  and  smiles  are  blended, 
Or  like  a  faithless  April  day, 

Whose  shine  with  shower  is  ended  ; 
Like  Colnbrook  pavement,  rather  rough, 

Like  trade  exposed  to  losses, 
And  like  a  Highland  plaid,  all  stuff, 

And  very  full  of  crosses. 

"  I  think  the  world,  though  dark  it  be, 

Has  aye  one  rapturous  pleasure, 
Conceal'd  in  life's  monotony, 

For  those  who  seek  the  treasure  ; 
One  planet  in  a  starless  night, — 

One  blossom  on  a  briar, — 
One  friend  not  quite  a  hypocrite, — 

One  woman  not  a  liar  ! 

"  I  think  poor  beggars  court  St.  Giles, 

Rich  beggars  court  St.  Stephen  ; 
And  Death  looks  down  with  nods  and  smiley 

And  makes  the  odds  all  even ; 
I  think  some  die  upon  the  field, 

And  some  upon  the  billow, 
And  some  are  laid  beneath  a  shield, 

And  some  beneath  a  willow. 

"  I  think  that  very  few  have  sigh'd, 

When  Fate  at  last  has  found  them, 
Though  bitter  foes  were  by  their  side, 

And  barren  moss  around  them  ; 
I  think  that  some  have  died  of  drought, 

And  some  have  died  of  drinking  ; — 
I  think  that  nought  is  worth  a  thought, 

And  I'm  a  fool  for  thinking  !" 

"  I  think "   my  readers  will  not  complain  of  the 
length  of  this  reprint.     I  could  not  select  stanzas 


248  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE. 

without  injury  to  the  unity  of  thought.  The  poem, 
after  having  been  published  six-and- thirty  years,  is 
far  less  known  than  was  Macaulay's  famous  "  Elec 
tion  Ballad"  of  1827,  before  the  "Quarterly  Review" 
disentombed  it  from  the  columns  of  "  The  Times." 

I  must  hold  my  hand.  I  must  look  forward  to  my 
proper  work  of  sober  narrative  in  the  next  stage  of 
life's  journey — to  trace  the  progress  of  education — 
the  growth  of  popular  literature.  The  following 
lines  from  the  "Arlechino  Parlante  "  of  "  The  Brazen 
Head  " — the  Harlequin  "  who  everything  changes  " — 
verses  which  St.  Leger  and  I  produced  in  happy 
association,  are  suggestive  of  the  opening,  in  a  new 
condition  of  society,  for  labours  that  might  be  useful 
to  my  fellow-men  : 

"  I  have  whistled  up  sprites  to  bestow  my  new  lights 

On  all  that  is  ancient,  exclusive,  and  dark  ; — 
I  have  spread  around  knowledge — I  build  London  College — 

I  have  steam  on  the  Thames,  I  have  gas  in  the  Park. 
No  longer  a  minister  frowns  and  looks  sinister, 

When  philosophy  mingles  with  maxims  of  state  ; 
Economical  squires  deride  their  grand -sires, 

And  reasoning  citizens  lead  the  debate." 


PASSAGES  OF  A  WOBKING  LIFE, 


t  j§mraJr 


CHAPTER  XL 


1824, 1  am  settled  as  a  Publisher  in  a 
newly-built  house  in  Pall  Mall  East,  the 
next  house  to  the  College  of  Physicians. 
1  had  occupied  for  a  year  a  much  smaller 
place  of  business  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  way. 
This  was  altogether  a  new  neighbourhood.  On  the 
west  side  of  what  is  now  called  Trafalgar  Square, 
houses  had  grown  up,  which  were  terminated  towards 
Charing  Cross  by  the  Union  Club.  But  there  was  as 
yet  no  Nelson's  column ;  no  fountains  in  the  centre, 
to  be  ridiculed  as  dumb-waiters. 

During  the  first  years  of  my  residence  in  Pall 
Mall  'East,  Saint  James's  Park  was  getting  rid  of 
its  old  squalidness.  The  road  after  nightfall  had 
ceased  to  be  a  place  of  danger  and  licentiousness. 
"There  is  gas  in  the  Park/3  At  the  time  of  the 
Stuarts  the  Mall  had  been  the  lounging  place  of 
the  highest — the  favourite  ground  of  assignation 
of  the  Comedies  in  which  Wit  and  Profligacy  long 
maintained  a  flourishing  co-partnership.  Forty  years 
ago  the  fashionable  idlers  had  given  place  to  happy 
children  and  smart  nursery-maids.  Mechanics  out 
of  work,  and  street  vagabonds,  always  formed  a 


252  PASSAGES    OF    A    WOHKING    LIFE: 

crowd  to  see  the  relief  of  the  Guard.  Gapers  from 
the  country  stood  wonderingly  upon  the  Parade, 
watching  the  working  of  the  Telegraph  at  the  top 
of  the  Admiralty.  The  old  machine,  which  told 
its  story  by  the  opening  and  closing  of  shutters,  was 
superseded  by  a  greater  wonder,  the  Semaphore, 
which  threw  out  an  arm,  first  on  one  side  and  then 
on  another,  and  at  varying  heights.  Very  tedious 
was  the  transmission  of  the  message,  even  by  this 
improved  instrument ;  sometimes  impossible  from 
the  state  of  the  atmosphere.  About  1824  I  was 
summoned  as  a  witness  upon  a  trial  in  which  Mr. 
Croker  was  also  required  to  give  his  testimony.  I 
walked  with  him  for  an  hour  or  more  up  and  down 
Westminster  Hall.  So  full  of  anecdote  was  his  talk, 
that  I  could  scarcely  agree  with  him  when  he  said, 
"The  French  are  right  in  calling  the  vestibule  to 
their  Palace  of  Justice  la  salle  des  pas  perdus."  My 
steps  with  him  were  neither  lost  nor  wearisome. 
At  last,  looking  at  his  watch,  he  exclaimed,  "  Go  I 
must.  There  is  a  frigate  waiting  at  Portsmouth 
for  orders  to  sail,  and  it  will  be  dark  before  I  can 
set  the  Telegraph  in  motion  if  I  stay  longer."  The 
Secretary  of  the  Admiralty  writes  a  few  words  now, 
regardless  of  dark  or  light,  and  the  faithful  wire  con 
veys  his  orders  from  port  to  port,  and  from  sea  to  sea, 
far  quicker  than  the  flight  of  Ariel. 

The  neighbourhood  in  which  I  am  seated  is  not  as 
yet  a  very  busy  or  a  very  lively  one.  It  is  gradually 
growing  into  a  region  dedicated  to  the  Fine  Arts. 
The  Society  of  Painters  in  Water  Colours  have  fixed 
their  Gallery  opposite  me.  The  Society  of  British 
Artists  have  their  Exhibition  close  at  hand  in  Suffolk 
Street.  My  next-door  neighbour  is  Mr.  Colnaghi, 


THE    SECOND    EPOCH.  253 

the  printseller.  From  him,  and  from  iiis  excellent 
son  Dominick,  I  had  some  lessons  in  taste,  as  they 
would  occasionally  show  me  a  few  of  their  choice  im 
portations. 

It  is  forty  years  ago  since  the  Londoners  began 
seriously  to  think  that  their  traffic  was  becoming  too 
large  for  their  streets.  The  broad-wheeled  waggon 
generally  crept  in  and  out  at  nightfall,  as  it  had 
crept  since  the  days  of  Fielding  and  Hogarth.  The 
hackney-coach,  never  in  a  hurry,  went  on  "melan 
choly,  slow,"  patient  under  every  stoppage.  No  med 
dling  policeman  yet  presumed  to  regulate  the  move 
ments  of  the  driver  with  a  dozen  capes,  who  pulled 
up  when  he  pleased,  unheeding  his  silk-stockinged 
fare  who  was  too  late  for  dinner,  and  sat  in  the 
damp  straw,  shouting  and  cursing.  The  omnibus 
appeared  not  in  our  streets  till  1831,  and  when  it 
came,  the  genteel  remained  faithful  to  the  foul  hack 
ney-coach,  mounting  its  exclusive  iron  steps  with  true 
English  satisfaction  at  not  being  in  mixed  company. 
There  were  schemes  of  sub- ways,  but  they  met  no 
encouragement.  Colonel  Trench  obtained  an  audi 
ence  at  the  Mansion  House,  to  listen  to  his  proposal 
of  a  terrace,  eighty  feet  wide,  from  London  Bridge  to 
Westminster  Bridge.  Some  thought  the  scheme  a 
good  one,  but  far  too  grand.  Most  sneered  at  such 
projects  of  Laputa.  The  sneerers  and  doubters  kept 
their  ground  through  a  generation ;  and  now  we  are 
thinking  in  reality  about  such  an  obvious  improve 
ment. 

In  the  semi-thoroughfare  of  Pall  Mall  East  we «  had 
few  passing  sights.  But  on  the  12th  of  July,  1824 
I  stand  with  my  family  on  our  balcony,  looking  out 
for  a  grand  funeral  procession  that  is  to  come  from 


254:  PASSAGES    OF  A  WORKING    LIFE  : 

Great  George  Street,  Westminster,  and  to  pass  from 
Charing  Cross  up  the  Haymarket.  On  the  19th  of 
April  Lord  Byron  had  died  at  Missolonghi.  The 
hearse  which  was  moving  up  the  Haymarket,  to  end 
its  journey  at  Newstead  Abbey,  was  followed  by  a 
few  who  loved  him,  and  by  many  who  reverenced  his 
genius.  Poets  were  there — Moore,  Campbell,  Rogers ; 
statesmen — Grey,  Lansdowne,  Holland  ;  Greek  Depu 
ties,  who  thought  he  was  to  have  been  the  saviour  of 
their  country ;  and  English  guardians  of  his  fair  fame, 
who  had  honoured  his  memory  by  burning  his  auto 
biography.  His  sudden  death — in  the  land  where  he 
was  attempting  to  express  by  heroic  deeds  that  sym 
pathy  with  the  "  Cause  of  the  Greeks  "  which  other 
eminent  men  were  content  to  associate  with  their 
speeches  and  their  writings — had  moved  all  (except 
ing  a  few  who  refused  his  body  sepulture  in  our 
temple  of  the  illustrious  dead)  to  forget  how  he  had 
latterly  abused  his  great  powers,  and  to  remember 
only  how  ineffaceably  he  tad  inscribed  his  name 
amongst  the  immortals  of  literature.  The  pageant 
is  over.  Forty  years  have  passed  away,  and  Byron 
is  now  judged  with  the  impartiality  of  posterity.  He 
is  not  held  to  be  the  greatest  poet  that  modern 
England  has  produced ;  he  is  not  execrated  as 
amongst  the  most  immoral.  There  was  much  to  pity 
and  forgive  in  his  frailties.  The  mellowing  influence 
of  a  few  more  years  might  have  lifted  his  words  and 
his  deeds  out  of  the  slough  in  which  he  sometimes 
seemed  unwilling  to  strive  for  a  firmer  footing. 

At  the  time  of  Lord  Byron's  funeral  I  was  involved 
in  a  matter  of  public  interest  connected  with  the 
career  of  the  deceased  poet.  I  was  enduring  a  dis 
appointment,  such  as  I  had  scarcely  contemplated  as 


THE    SECOND    EPOCH.  255 

a  possible  incident  of  my  publishing  career.  I  will 
relate,  as  briefly  as  I  can,  the  story  of  a  Chancery 
Injunction  to  restrain  me  from  publishing  certain 
Letters  of  Lord  Byron,  which  was  served  upon  me 
five  days  before  the  funeral  procession  which  I  wit 
nessed  on  the  12th  of  July. 

Robert  Charles  Dallas  was  connected  by  marriage 
with  the  family  of  the  poet.  Captain  George  Anson 
Byron,  the  uncle  of  Lord  Byron,  married  the  sister  of 
Mr.  Dallas.  In  1824,  through  the  intervention  of 
my  kind  friend,  the  Rev.  Charles  Richard  Sumner, 
then  residing  at  Windsor  as  Domestic  Chaplain  to 
George  IV.,  I  was  offered  the  publication  of  a  book  to 
be  entitled  "  Correspondence  of  Lord  Byron."  Upon 
receiving  intelligence  of  the  death  at  Missolonghi  of 
the  eminent  man  of  whom  he  had  some  interesting 
memorials,  Mr.  Dallas  came  from  Paris  to  England  to 
arrange  for  the  publication  of  some  work  in  which 
should  be  exhibited  his  "  Recollections  of  the  Life  of 
Lord  Byron  from  1808  to  the  end  of  1814."  I  saw 
him  at  the  house  of  his  son  Alexander,  who,  having 
been  formerly  in  the  army,  had  taken  orders,  and 
was  in  1824  in  the  ministerial  charge  of  the  village 
of  Wooburn,  near  Beaconsfield.  The  elder  Dallas 
was  then  in  his  seventieth  year — a  handsome  old 
man,  of  refined  manners,  of  varied  and  extensive  in 
formation  ;  manifesting  an  affectionate  attachment  to 
the  memory  of  the  poet,  but  with  a  strong  religious 
feeling  as  to  his  moral  aberrations  since  the  period 
of  their  intimate  acquaintance,  which  in  some  respects 
might  have  been  called  friendship.  That  intimacy 
ceased  after  1814.  Mr.  Dallas  had  many  times  heard 
Lord  Byron  read  portions  of  a  book  in  which  he  in 
serted  his  opinion  of  the  persons  with  whom  he  mixed, 


256  PASSAGES    OF    A    WOKKING    LEFE I 

which  book,  he  said,  he  intended  for  publication  after 
his  death.  This,  I  conceive,  was  the  Memoir  upon 
which  Mr.  Murray  advanced  two  thousand  guineas 
to  Thomas  Moore ;  and  which  was  torn  and  burned, 
under  advice,  in  the  presence  of  Moore,  the  advance 
being  repaid  to  Mr.  Murray.  Such  is  Mr.  Moore's 
account  of  this  mysterious  transaction.*  From  hear 
ing  some  of  Lord  Byron's  opinions  of  his  contempo 
raries,  Mr.  Dallas  took  the  hint  of  writing  a  volume 
to  be  published  after  his  own  death  and  that  of  Lord 
Byron,  which  should  present  a  faithful  delineation  of 
the  poet's  character  as  he  had  known  him.  The 
judicious  advice  of  the  elder  author — for  Dallas  had 
been  a  not  unsuccessful  historian  and  novelist — was 
useful  to  Byron  in  his  tentative  walk  to  fame ;  and 
the  obligation  was  amply  repaid  by  the  present  of 
the  copyright  of  the  first  two  cantos  of  "  Childe 
Harold,"  which,  strange  to  say,  Byron  was  unwilling 
to  publish  till  encouraged  by  the  judgment  of  his 
experienced  friend.  Byron  died  at  the  age  of  thirty- 
seven  ;  Dallas  could  have  scarcely  contemplated  to 
have  been  his  survivor.  The  world  was  eager  to 
learn  all  it  could  about  the  man  who  had  filled  so 
large  a  space  in  its  thoughts  for  fourteen  years;  and 
Mr.  Dallas,  not  from  mere  sordid  motives,  remodelled 
his  Memoir  into  "  Correspondence  of  Lord  Byron." 
I  purchased  the  manuscript  for  a  large  sum  ;  and  in 
June  it  was  advertised  for  publication.  On  the  30th 
of  that  month  Mr.  Hobhouse  called  on  me  with  a 
friend  who,  as  it  subsequently  appeared,  was  to  be  a 
witness  to  our  conversation.  I  was  not  aware  of  the 
disadvantage  under  which  the  presence  of  a  witness 

*  See  his  letter,  dated  May  26,  in  "  Annual  Register  "  for  1824. 


THE    SECOND    EPOCH.  257 

was  intended  to  place  me,  but  immediately  after  the 
interview  I  made  a  full  note  of  what  took  place. 
Mr.  Hobhouse  came  to  protest,  as  one  of  the  exe 
cutors  of  Lord  Byron,  against  the  publication  of 
this  correspondence.  I  stated  that  I  had  read  the 
manuscript  carefully,  and  that  the  family  and  the 
executors  need  feel  no  apprehension  as  to  its  ten 
dency,  as  the  work  was  intended  to  elevate  Lord 
Byron's  moral  and  intellectual  character.  Mr.  Hob- 
house  observed,  that  if  individuals  were  not  spoken 
of  with  bitterness,  and  if  opinions  were  not  very  freely 
expressed  in  these  letters,  they  were  not  like  Lord 
Byron's  letters  in  general.  The  result  was,  that  the 
Vice-Chancellor  granted  an  injunction  upon  the  affi 
davits  of  Mr.  Hobhouse  and  Mr.  Hanson,  co-executors, 
that  such  contemplated  publication  was  "  a  breach  of 
private  confidence,  and  a  violation  of  the  rights  of  pro 
perty."  There  was  an  appeal.  Our  counter-affidavits 
affirmed  that  the  letters  were  not  of  a  confidential 
character.  After  two  months  of  anxiety,  Lord  Eldon, 
the  Chancellor,  decided  "  that  if  A.  writes  a  letter  to 
B.,  B.  has  the  property  in  that  letter  for  the  purpose 
of  reading  and  keeping  it,  but  no  property  in  it  to 
publish  it."  The  unfortunate  quarto  volume,  as 
printed  to  p.  168,  is  before  me.  In  a  few  years, 
Mr.  Moore,  in  his  "  Life  of  Byron,"  gave  his  testi 
mony  to  the  value  of  "a  sort  of  Memoir  of  the 
noble  Poet,  published  soon  after  his  death,  which, 
from  being  founded  chiefly  on  original  correspond 
ence,  is  the  most  authentic  and  trustworthy  of  any 
that  have  yet  appeared."  That  Memoir  was  pub 
lished  by  me  at  the  end  of  1824,  after  the  death  of 
Mr.  Dallas  on  the  21st  of  October.  It  was  edited 
by  his  son,  the  Reverend  Alexander  Dallas,  who, 


258  PASSAGES    OF  A  WOKKENG    LIFE: 

throughout  the  whole  of  this  affair,  acted  in  the 
most  honourable  and  conscientious  spirit.  In  the 
omission  of  passages  of  the  original  manuscript,  he 
evinced  a  truly  Christian  temper  of  moderation 
towards  those  who  had  endeavoured  to  damage  his 
father's  character,  by  the  imputation  of  unworthy 
motives  in  seeking  to  publish  this  Correspondence. 
I  was  never  brought  so  near  to  Lord  Eldon  as 
during  the  hours  when  this  case  was  argued  in  his 
private  room.  I  observed  with  admiration:  the 
patient  spirit  of  inquiry ;  the  desire  to  uphold  the 
authority  of  previous  cases  ;  but  with  a  strong  incli 
nation  not  to  decide  against  the  right  of  publication, 
when  no  satisfactory  reason  could  be  shown  but  that 
of  individual  caprice  or  self-interest  for  suppressing 
the  work.  Mr.  Kindersley,  now  a  Vice-Chancellor,  was 
our  Counsel,  and  most  ably  did  he  perform  his  duty. 
At  times  I  thought  that  the  "  I  doubt "  of  the  great 
Chancellor  would  have  terminated  in  our  favour. 
He  seemed,  even  in  pronouncing  judgment,  to  have 
some  hesitation  about  affirming  the  principle  upon 
which  he  ultimately  decided  as  to  the  property  in 
letters,  as  settled  by  the  law.  "Whether  that  was 
a  decision  that  could  very  well  have  stood  at  first 
or  not  I  will  not  undertake  to  say."  But  for  most 
purposes  of  public  utility  his  judgment  was  valuable. 
"It  is  a  very  different  thing,  as  it  appears  to  me, 
publishing  as  information  what  these  letters  contain, 
and  publishing  the  letters  themselves."  Upon  this 
principle  we  acted,  in  regard  to  the  volume  which 
was  published  at  the  end  of  1824,  as  "  Recollections 
of  Lord  Byron."  Mr.  Moore  reaped  the  full  advan 
tage  of  the  suppressed  Correspondence,  by  filling 
many  pages,  in  1829,  with  the  letters  of  Dallas  and 


THE    SECOND    EPOCH.  259 

Byron  that  the  executors  had  thought  fit  to  suppress 
in  1824. 

In  the  midst  of  these  Chancery  proceedings  a  Cap 
tain  Parry  was  announced.  "A  fine  rough  subject" — 
as  Byron  designated  this  "fire-master  who  was  to 
burn  a  whole  fleet," — came  into  my  private  room, 
with  a  leathern  bag  slung  over  his  shoulder.  He 
threw  it  on  the  table,  exclaiming,  "  There  you  have 
the  best  book  that  any  one  can  write  about  the 
Bight  Honourable  George  Gordon,  Lord  Byron/'  He 
opened  the  wallet ;  handed  me  some  of  the  illiterate 
scrawl ;  vaunted  again  and  again  his  friendship  with 
the  Right  Honourable  George  Gordon,  Lord  Byron — 
always  naming  him  by  his  titles  at  full  length  ;  and 
was  very  much  astonished  when  I  declined  having 
anything  to  say  to  the  affair.  Captain  Parry  found 
some  person  to  prepare  his  MS.  for  the  press.  An 
action  of  some  sort  arose  out  of  the  publication ;  and 
I  was  called  as  a  witness  to  prove  the  nature  of  the 
contents  of  that  leathern  bag,  Parry  having  main 
tained  that  he  was  the  sole  author  of  the  book.  The 
most  remarkable  part  of  this  piece  of  literary  manu 
facture  was  a  ribald  description  of  Jeremy  Bentham, 
running  up  Fleet  Street  pursued  by  a  notorious 
woman  called  "  The  City  Barge."  Parry  had  indoc 
trinated  his  scribe  with  his  own  hatred  of  the  Utili 
tarians  of  the  Greek  Committee  in  London,  who 
sent  out  printing-presses  and  pedagogues  in  more 
plentiful  supply  than  Congreve-rockets.  Byron 

writes  on  the  8th  February,  "  Parry  says  B 

[?  Bentham]  is  a  humbug,  to  which  I  say  nothing. 
He  sorely  laments  the  printing  and  civilizing  ex 
penses,  and  wishes  that  there  was  not  a  Sunday 
school  in  the  world." 


260  PASSAGES    OF  A  WOKKING    LEPEI 

The  business-house  of  a  young  publisher  had,  at  the 
time  of  which  I  am  writing,  the  sort  of  attraction  for 
flights  of  authors  as  a  saltcat  has  for  pigeons.  The 
whole  commerce  of  Literature  is,  happily,  so  changed ; 
the  buyers  of  books  and  the  vendors  of  books  have 
become  so  numerous  ;  the  competition  for  the  power 
of  securing  literary  merit,  when  it  first  imps  its  wing, 
has  so  enlarged, — that  the  publishers  have  now  to 
seek  the  authors — if  they  be  worth  seeking.  I  am 
not  sure,  even,  that  mediocrity  is  now  the  thing 
abhorred  by  gods,  men,  and  booksellers.  However 
this  may  be,  I  had,  in  1824,  heaps  of  unpublished 
manuscripts  to  look  over;  and,  what  was  more 
troublesome,  a  good  many  indignant  writers  to  bow 
out.  There  were  strange  small  fishes  trying  to  swim 
in  the  wake  of  the  Leviathans  in  that  "  yeasty  main." 
Some  brought  their  wares  in  bulk,  and  some  offered 
their  samples.  I  honestly  think  that  I  tried  to  be 
conscientious  in  my  refusals  to  deal,  for  I  had  expe 
rienced  myself  a  little  of  the  unknown  author's  diffi 
culty  of  obtaining  a  publisher.  Yet  it  was  hard 
work.  I  had  not  learnt  the  art  of  refusing  in  terms 
that  should  be  meaningless  and  yet  effective.  One 
eminent  publisher  was  the  most  skilful  practitioner 
of  that  art  with  whom  I  was  acquainted.  I  have 
heard  some  such  dialogue  as  this  :  A.  "I  presume, 
Sir,  you  have  at  length  been  able  to  peruse  my 
novel  ? " — C.  "  H'm !  chair  ...  my  reader  .  .  .  clever 
....  not  quite  adapted  to  public  taste  ....  glut  .... 
trade  very  dull  .  .  .  perhaps  next  season." — A.  "Would 
a  volume  of  poems  ? " — C.  "  Poems  ?  ....  oh  !  .... 
drug  .  .  .  ." — A.  "  But  so  many  come  out !  " — C.  "Yes 

....  on  commission  ....  Messrs. will  publish 

for  you  .  ,  .  ,  print  on  your  own  account ....  sell  five- 


THE  SECOND  EPOCH.  261 

and-twenty  ....  not  our  line  ....  excuse  .... 
gentleman  waiting."  I  began  at  last  to  think  that 
for  a  fashionable  publisher  there  was  a  grand  subject 
for  imitation  in  Lord  Burleigh's  shake  of  the  head. 
Sometimes  a  book  would  be  offered  me  that  appeared 
really  worth  a  venture.  A  huge  ungainly  Scot  walks 
in,  dressed  in  a  semi-military  fashion, — a  braided 
surtout  and  a  huge  fur  cape  to  his  cloak  ;  spluttering 
forth  his  unalloyed  dialect,  and  somewhat  redolent 
of  the  whiskey  that  he  could  find  south  of  the  Tweed. 
He  at  length  interested  me.  He  had  come  to  Lon 
don  a  literary  adventurer.  He  had  been  his  own 
educator,  for  he  was  once  a  working  weaver.  Many 
were  the  schemes  of  books  that  he  was  ready  to 
write — schemes  that  had  been  in  the  hands-  of  most 
publishers,  famous  or  obscure.  He  was  known,  I 
found,  to  one  of  the  ablest  of  the  staff  of  the  "  Times/' 
— a  gentleman  to  whom  was  committed  the  charge 
of  the  Foreign  department  of  that  Journal,  which, 
even  forty  years  ago,  founded  its  success  upon  the 
marked  talent  and  reliable  knowledge  of  its  writers. 
Out  of  the  budget  of  Robert  Mudie  I  selected  a  plan 
for  a  book  on  London — something  in  the  manner  of 
one  which  he  had  published,  "  The  Modern  Athens." 
It  was  to  be  called  "  Babylon  the  Great."  The  work 
was  a  success.  I  was  acquainted  with  this  singular 
man  for  some  years.  He  would  occasionally  use  his 
powers  to  good  purpose  ;  but  his  writings  were  too 
often  inaccurate.  He  approached  nearer  to  the  idea 
of  a  hack  author  of  the  old  times  than  any  man  I 
ever  saw.  He  would  undertake  any  work,  however 
unsuited  to  his  acquirements  or  his  taste.  Late  in 
his  career,  he  produced  a  book — forgotten  now  per 
haps,  and  too  much  overlooked  by  scientific  naturalists 


262  PASSAGES    OF    A    WORKING    LIFE: 

in  his  own  day — which  exhibits  remarkable  powers 
of  observation  and  description.  Before  he  had  been 
condemned  to  a  life  of  incessant  literary  toil  in 
London — only  made  more  heavy  by  sottish  indul 
gence — he  was  a  genuine  naturalist,  who  had  looked 
upon  the  plants,  the  insects,  the  birds,  and  other  ani 
mal  life  of  his  own  moors  and  mountains,  with  a 
rare  perception  of  the  curious  and  beautiful.  "  The 
Feathered  Tribes  of  the  British  Islands  "  is  not  an 
e  very-day  work  of  science  without  imagination. 

I  used  sometimes  to  avail  myself  of  the  privilege 
of  propinquity  to  have  a  gossip  with  the  worthy  old 
gentleman  who  first  made  the  name  of  Colnaghi 
famous  amongst  collectors.  He  once  gave  me  a  piece 
of  advice,  which  to  some  extent  made  me  shy  of  pur 
suing  an  interesting  study  of  human  character.  He 
had  seen  William  Henry  Ireland  entering  my  door, 
and  sometimes  making  a  long  visit.  I  delighted  to 
talk  with  the  author  of  the  Shakspere  forgeries, 
having  no  very  harsh  opinion  of  the  man  who,  when 
a  lad  of  eighteen,  had  hoaxed  the  big-wigs  of  his  day, 
and  had  laughed  in  his  sleeve  when  Dr.  Parr  reve 
rently  knelt  and  rendered  thanks  that  he  had  lived 
to  read  a  prayer  by  the  divine  poet,  finer  than  any 
thing  in  the  Liturgy.  How  joyously  would  he  now 
look  back  upon  his  imposture  of  1795,  preserved  by 
his  inordinate  vanity  from  any  compunctious  visitings 
that  might  lead  him  to  think  that  a  fraud  was  not 
altogether  to  be  justified  by  its  cleverness  !  He  was 
now  nearly  fifty  years  of  age  ;  doing  hard  work  of 
authorship  wherever  he  could  find  employment ; 
wretchedly  poor,  and  perhaps  not  altogether  trust 
worthy.  "  Take  you  care  of  that  Mr.  Ireland,"  says 
my  kind  neighbour  the  printseller.  "  He  used  to  be 


THE  SECOND  EPOCH. 

very  fond  of  looking  over  my  Rembrandt  etchings 
and  other  portable  rarities.  But —  I  will  say  no 
more."  I  was  not  taken  with  any  of  poor  Ireland's 
schemes.  He  had  outlived  his  very  questionable 
fame  as  the  author  of  Shakspere's  "  Yortigern  and 
Rowena."  Thirty  years  had  passed  since  he  made 
his  "  Confessions." 

When  I  was  first  planted  in  the  West  End  as  a 
Publisher  of  Miscellaneous  Works,  I  adopted  the 
honest,  but  somewhat  impolitic,  rule  of  never  suffer 
ing  myself  to  be  denied.  The  natural  consequence 
was,  that  half  my  day  was  spent  in  listening  to  very 
dull  harangues  upon  neglected  merit,  from  authors 
who  were  making  the  round  of  hard-hearted  and 
mercenary  dealers,  who,  with  the  hereditary  effrontery 
of  the  trade,  refused  to  embark  their  capital  in  print 
ing  books  that  they  were  satisfied  would  not  sell. 
But  there  would  often  come  a  welcome  relief  in 
clients  of  a  better  order.  Of  such  I  may  mention 
Captain  John  Dundas  Cochrane,  whose  "  Pedestrian 
Journey  through  Russia  and  Siberian  Tartary,"  I 
published  with  great  success.  Most  amusing  was 
the  conversation  of  this  eccentric  traveller,  who  did 
me  the  honour  to  introduce  me  to  his  wife,  brought 
to  England  by  him  from  the  end  of  the  Kamtchatkan 
peninsula — a  beautiful  little  flaxen-haired  creature, 
who  shrank  from  my  presence  and  hid  behind  a 
table.  He  did  not  persuade  me  to  adopt  the  custom 
which  had  been  forced  upon  him  in  default  of  other 
food- — that  of  eating  fish  raw,  which  he  retained  in 
the  heart  of  civilised  life  as  a  luxury  far  greater  than 
any  nice  cookery  could  produce.  In  a  varied  inter 
course  such  as  that  of  an  aspiring  publisher,  he  must 

have  very  dull  faculties  to  allow  them  to  stagnate. 
12 


264  PASSAGES    OF    A   WORKING    LIFE: 

Give  him  a  prosperous  career  and  few  occupations 
can  be  happier,  great  as  may  be  his  risks  and  re 
sponsibilities.  Even  the  loungers  who  had  no  objects 
of  business  to  propound  kept  up  a  pleasant  excite 
ment.  The  mere  gossipers  were  not  unprofitable 
visitors.  I  endured  much  desultory  tattle  in  the 
conviction  that  a  successful  publisher  must  make  up 
his  mind  to  give  many  hours  to  what,  in  the  crowded 
marts  "  where  merchants  most  do  congregate,"  would 
be  deemed  utter  waste  of  time.  Some  of  the  plea 
sant  friends  of  those  mornings  in  Pall  Mall  East  now 
"  come  like  shadows "  before  me.  Let  me  call  up 
the  memory  of  one  to  whom  the  words  of  Junius 
might  be  applied,  "  he  is  a  genus — let  him  stand 
alone."  Thomas  Gent  sits  rollicking  on  the  largest 
chair  that  he  can  find — as  fat,  not  quite  as  witty,  but 
with  as  sufficient  an  amount  of  "  impudent  sauci- 
ness,"  as  Falstaff.  I  have  witnessed  the  irresistible 
joke  come  slowly  and  demurely  off  the  tongue  of 
Hood,  he  perfectly  grave  and  silent  after  the  effusion, 
whilst  his  hearers  are  bursting  again  and  again  into 
peals  of  laughter.  I  have  seen  the  retort,  quick  and 
blinding  as  lightning,  flash  from  the  lips  of  Jen-old, 
whilst  he  himself  led  the  chorus  of  mirth  at  his  own 
success,  and  the  victim  would  laugh  the  longest  and 
the  loudest.  But  never  saw  I  such  effects  of  mere 
drollery,  resting  upon  the  slightest  sub-soil  of  intel 
lect,  as  my  corpulent  friend  produced,  whether  he 
encountered  an  acquaintance  as  he  slowly  paced  the 
Strand  "  larding  the  lean  earth ; "  or  gathered  a 
crowd  round  him  in  the  box-lobby  to  grin  as  they 
had  just  grinned  at  Liston  ;  or,  falling  asleep  the 
instant  he  had  dined,  suddenly  woke  up  and  set  the 
table  in  a  roar,  again  closing  his  eyes  and  again 


THE   SECOND   EPOCH.  265 

waking  up  to  the  same  success.  And  yet  I  can 
recollect  none  of  this  humourist's  jests  or  his  anec 
dotes.  Yes — one.  He  was  a  Yarmouth  man,  and 
there  also  was  sojourning  his  reverend  friend,  Mr. 
Croly,  and  their  genial  associate,  J.  P.  Davis.  A 
hospitable  alderman  of  that  flourishing  port  had 
invited  them  to  dinner ;  the  three  were  the  earliest 
of  the  guests.  As  usual  Gent  fired  off  some  absurdity 
which  put  an  end  to  all  conventional  gravity,  even 
in  the  stark  clergyman,  and  the  trio  began  "  to  giggle 
and  make  giggle."  The  solemn  host,  unused  to  such 
explosions,  exclaimed  in  an  agony,  "  Gentlemen,  gen 
tlemen — pray  be  quiet — the  company  arn't  come." 
Croly  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height,  and  address 
ing  the  unfortunate  man  with  that  withering  haughti 
ness  which  was  sometimes  a  mask  for  his  good  nature, 
said,  "  What,  sir  !  are  we  hired  ? — are  we  hired  ? "  I 
must  not  linger  amongst  the  loungers  of  my  back 
room,  yet  I  cannot  forget  one  of  the  pleasantest  and 
most  improving,  Dr.  Maginn.  To  him  the  gossip  of 
the  modern  world  was  as  familiar  as  the  learning  of 
the  ancient.  From  some  organic  defect  of  utterance 
his  speech  was  occasionally  hesitating ;  yet  when  his 
words  came  forth  they  were  full  of  meaning — always 
pleasant,  often  wise.  It  cannot,  however,  be  denieU 
he  was  best  of  a  morning, — the  double  excitement 
of  the  table  and  the  talk  was  sometimes  too  much 
for  him. 


CHAPTEE    XII. 

E  have  no  sufficiently  clear  record  of  the 
commerce  of  books  in  the  days  of  Pope 
and  Addison,  to  be  enabled  to  say  that 
there  was  a  marked  Publishing  Season. 
The  fact  that  there  was  a  Long  Vacation  rnay  lead 
us  to  conclude  that  when  "  Chambers  in  the  King's 
Bench  Walk "  were  deserted,  Mr.  Tonson  was 
entertaining  the  Kit-Cat  Club  in  his  Thames-side 
"Villa,  and  that  Mr.  Lintot  had  left  the  custody  of 
his  "  rubric  posts  "  to  his  shop  boys.  Whatever  may 
have  been  the  custom  in  the  reign  of  the  first  George, 
undoubtedly  the  publisher  of  any  note  asserted  his 
right  to  a  Season  in  the  reign  of  George  IV. 
For  the  three  months  of  autumn,  the  Circulating 
Libraries  were  indifferently  supplied  with  Travel 
and  Romance  ;  but  great  were  the  preparations  for 
the  coming  campaign.  Manuscripts  were  in  critical 
hands,  proofs  were  circulating  by  post,  negotiations 
were  on  foot,  advertisements  were  being  prepared, 
mysterious  hints  about  "  the  Journal  of  a  noble  lady, 
that  had  been  read  to  a  select  circle,  of  fashionables," 
appeared  in  the  papers.  Like  the  mighty  ones  of 
my  craft,  I  was  glad  that  the  Season  had  come  to  an 
end,  in  the  July  of  1825.  With  me  it  was  closed  by 
the  publication  of  a  work  of  unusual  importance. 
Milton's  Latin  Treatise  on  Christian  Doctrine,  having 
been  discovered  in  the  State  Paper  Office,  was  placed 


THE    SECOND    EP'OCH.  2G7 

in  the  hands  of  the  Librarian  and  Historiographer  to 
George  IV.,  for  the  laudable  purpose  of  giving  to 
the  world  an  unpublished  work  of  one  of  the  greatest 
of  English  poets.  That  office  was  held  in  1824  by 
the  Rev.  Charles  Richard  Sumner.  The  original, 
and  a  translation,  were  printed  at  the  Cambridge 
University  Press,  and  I  was  selected  as  their  Pub 
lisher.*  At  the  time  of  its  publication  the  editor 
and  translator  was  D.D.,  and  a  prebendary  of  Canter 
bury.  In  1827  he  succeeded  Dr.  Tomline,  as  bishop 
of  Winchester.  I  cannot  advert  to  the  confidence 
which  Dr.  Sumner  placed  in  me,  and  bear  in  mind 
the  whole  nature  of  my  intercourse  with  him,  without 
a  feeling  of  affectionate  gratitude  to  a  most  zealous 
and  constant  friend,  whose  kindness  was  never  alloyed 
by  any  of  the  condescension  of  patronage — who,  when 
he  had  arrived  at  almost  the  highest  ecclesiastical 
dignity,  preserved  the  same  frank  and  amiable  de 
meanour  that  he  had  exhibited  when  I  first  knew 
him  at  Windsor — who,  a  year  or  two  later,  won 
my  heart  by  his  public  spirit,  as  well  as  by  his 
personal  kindness, — for  it  was  he,  in  his  diocese  of 
LlandafF,  who,  in  a  letter  of  interrogatories  sent 
round  to  his  Clergy,  asked  a  question  which  became 
famous — "  Are  there  infant  schools  in  your  parish — 
and,  if  not,  why  not  ?  "  It  is  in  me  an  act  of  simple 
justice  here  to  record  a  circumstance  which  has  been 
misunderstood  in  connection  with  the  translation  of 
Milton's  posthumous  work. 

In  1824  I  went  with  Mr.  Sumner  to  Cambridge, 
to  arrange  for  the  printing  of  the  original  Latin  MS. 
at  the  University  Press.  Marvellous  to  relate,  there 

*  A  reprint  of  the  translation  lias  been  published  by  Mr.  Bohn. 


268  PASSAGES    OF    A    WORKING   LIFE! 

was  no  functionary  of  that  printing  office  who  was 
competent  to  see  that  the  corrections  upon  the  proofs 
as  they  passed  out  of  the  hands  of  the  editor  were 
properly  attended  to.  I  had  the  pleasure  of  intro 
ducing  Mr.  Sidney  Walker  to  Mr.  Sumner,  and  it 
was  agreed  that  he  should  undertake  this  duty.  The 
printing  of  the  Latin  edition,  and  of  the  English 
translation,  was  completed  in  the  course  of  a  twelve 
month.  The  Preface  by  the  translator  contains  the 
following  paragraph :  "  He  cannot  conclude  these 
preliminary  remarks  without  acknowledging  his 
obligations  to  W.  S.  Walker,  Esq.,  Fellow  of  Trinity 
College,  Cambridge,  who  has  not  only  discharged  the 
greater  part  of  the  laborious  office  of  correcting  the 
press,  but  whose  valuable  suggestions  during  the 
progress  of  the  work  have  contributed  to  remove 
some  of  its  imperfections."  The  Rev.  J.  Moultrie, 
in  his  Memoir  of  Mr.  Walker,  prefixed  to  his 
"  Poetical  Remains,"  says  of  this  incident  in  his 
friend's  literary  career,  "  The  work  being  printed  at 
the  University  Press,  Walker  was  selected  as  resident 
on  the  spot,  and  eminently  qualified  for  the  office,  to 
revise  and  correct  the  proof  sheets.  In  the  perform 
ance  of  this  task  he  considerably  overstepped  the 
limits  of  his  commission,  reviewing  not  only  the 
printer's  but  the  translator's  labour,  and  leaving 
upon  the  work  the  indelible  impress  of  his  own 
masterly  scholarship  and  profound  appreciation  of 
the  author's  genius."  Compared  with  this  statement 
the  acknowledgment  by  Dr.  Sumner  of  his  obliga 
tions  to  Mr.  Walker  may  appear  not  only  cold,  but 
insufficient.  It  is  my  duty  to  state  that  not  only 
had  the  accomplished  Fellow  of  Trinity  "  consider 
ably  overstepped  the  limits  of  his  commission,"  but 


THE   SECOND   EPOCH.  269 

had  concealed  the  fact  of  having  done  so  till  the 
printing  of  the  work  was  completed.  He  was 
fastidious  to  excess  in  his  critical  scholarship.  His 
clandestine  mode  of  proceeding  was  to  be  attributed  to 
his  utter  want  of  decision  of  character.  To  me  he  at 
length  made  the  tardy  communication  of  his  error.  "  I 
ought  properly  to  address  Mr.  Sumner,  but  I  cannot 
muster  confidence  to  make  the  communication  to  him. 
The  truth  is,  that  I  have  been  guilty  of  great  and 
unwarrantable  liberties  with  regard  to  the  trans 
lation  of  Milton.  I  understood  it  to  be  his  wish  that 
I  should  make  no  alterations,  except  such  as  were 
approved  of  by  him  ;  and  with  this  wish  I  conformed 
for  a  short  time,  except  some  minute  encroachments 
after  the  sheet  was  returned  from  Windsor ;  but  as 
I  went  on,  so  many  instances  occurred  to  me  in  which, 
so  I  thought,  the  translation  might  be  bettered,  that 
at  last  I  dropped  all  remorse  and  altered  without 
compunction.  The  truth  was,  that  although  the 
translation  would  in  any  case  have  been  quite  as 
good  as  is  generally  thought  proper  to  bestow  on 
modern  works,  written  in  foreign  languages — so  that 
the  public  would  not  have  complained, — I  could  not 
be  satisfied,  unless  it  were  something  better."  Many, 
he  says,  may  think  he  had  too  rigid  ideas  of  the 
duties  of  a  translator.  His  justification  was  to  be 
found,  he  maintains,  in  the  desire  he  felt  "  that  the 
work  might  be,  not  good  in  a  certain  stated  degree, 
but  as  good  as  it  could  be  made." 

The  days  before  "  Murray  " — the  days  when  the 
tourist  went  groping  his  way  through  foreign  towns 
without  the  friendly  aid  of  the  famous  "  Hand  Books 
for  Travellers  " — seem  to  belong  to  an  era  when 
the  majority  of  Britons  were,  in  some  sense,  "  almost 


270  PASSAGES    OF    A    WORKING   LIFE: 

separated  from  the  whole  world."  Yet,  in  1825, 
these  excellent  books  would  have  been  before  their 
time.  Travelling  had  not  then  become  a  fashion. 
The  modes  of  conveyance  were  tedious,  uncertain, 
and  expensive.  An  opportunity  was  presented  to 
me  in  the  August  of  that  year  of  seeing  Paris  under 
agreeable  circumstances ;  and  I  persuaded  myself 
that  through  a  personal  intercourse  with  French  pub 
lishers  I  could  unite  business  with  pleasure.  I  joined 
a  family,  of  which  the  mother  had  been  the  friend 
of  my  childhood — whose  elder  daughter  was  growing 
into  the  elegant  and  accomplished  woman — whose 
two  sons  were  Etonians,  full  of  spirit  and  curiosity. 
We  travelled  through  Picardy  with  a  caleche  and 
pair  of  horses  that  we  had  hired  at  Calais  ;  accom 
plishing  about  forty  miles  each  day,  with  ample 
opportunities  of  seeing  the  country  and  observing 
the  manners  of  the  people.  The  Diligence  often 
passed  us  or  met  us.  We  could  never  want  a  hearty 
laugh  whilst  the  postilion  diverted  us  with  his  jack 
boots  and  his  pigtail.  We  drew  up  beneatn  tho 
hedge-row  apple-trees  as  he  cracked  his  leathern 
whip  with  the  noise  of  a  little  blunderbuss.  We 
rather  pitied  the  poor  creatures,  who,  in  the  hottest 
of  weather,  were  shut  up  in  the  interior  of  that 
machine.  We  did  not  even  envy  the  uninterrupted 
prospect  of  the  few  who  sat  aloft  with  the  conducteur 
in  the  cabriolet.  So  we  leisurely  journeyed,  pleased 
with  all  we  saw  ;  enjoying  the  quails  and  partridges, 
which  we  often  found  at  dinner  or  supper,  although 
the  glory  of  bread-sauce  was  reserved  for  our  own 
country,  according  to  the  belief  of  Lord  Devon  ; 
mightily  relishing  the  wine  which  we  always  thought 
surprisingly  cheap  ;  and  well  inclined  to  believe  that 


THE    SECOND   EPOCH.  271 

there  were  no  bad  inns  upon  the  road  which  the 
English  were  wont  to  use  in  tke  days  of  leisurely 
travelling.  They  are  gone, — for  the  tourist  from 
Boulogne  to  Paris  of  1864 — the  Diligence,  the  Malle 
poste,  the  colossal  boots,  and  the  queues.  He  cannot 
enjoy,  as  we  enjoyed,  the  quiet  dinner  at  Montreuil ; 
the  nice  supper  at  Abbeville  ;  the  market  day  at 
Beauvais,  amidst  smiling  vendors  of  eggs  and  poultry 
in  their  wondrous  caps  and  sabots,  who  did  not  seem 
as  if  they  ever  toiled  in  the  harvest  time  as  we  had 
seen  some  of  their  hard-worked  country-women.  We 
now  rush  from  London  to  Paris  in  twelve  hours,  and 
fancy  we  have  seen  France. 

The  Paris  of  Charles  X.  was  as  suggestive  of 
political  and  social  contrasts  to  the  Paris  of  the  first 
Napoleon,  as  its  physical  aspects  gave  no  promise  of 
the  wonders  that  might  be  effected  under  a  sagacious 
despotism  during  the  lapse  of  another  generation. 
There  was  a  constitutional  Government ;  a  vigorous 
opposition  ;  an  unlicensed  Press.  There  were  earnest 
speakers  in  the  Chamber  of  Deputies  ;  bitter  satirists 
in  prose  and  verse  ;  Beranger  was  on  all  lips,  and 
Courier  might  be  read  in  castrated  editions ;  the 
officers  of  the  Crown  instituted  proceedings  against 
journalists,  but  the  tribunals  refused  to  condemn 
them.  There  was  then  an  open  struggle  between 
the  narrowest  bigotry  and  the  broadest  licence  in 
matters  of  religion.  The  priestly  and  ultra-royalist 
parties,  with  the  Court  at  their  head,  were  despised. 
They  were  "  les  infiniment  petits,"  whose  fall  would 
be  a  Revolution.  I  saw  the  King  and  the  Royal 
family  walk  from  the  Tuileries  in  procession  to 
Notre  Dame,  on  the  Feast  of  the  Ascension  of  the 
Virgin,  amidst  a  population  intent  upon  a  holiday 


272  PASSAGES   OF    A   WORKING   LIFE. 

and  in  tolerable  good  humour.  But  there  was  no 
enthusiasm,  and  there  were  significant  shrugs  of 
the  shoulders.  While  the  King  was  marching 
through  the  streets  at  the  head  of  an  army  of 
priests,  the  people  were  discussing  the  atrocity  of  the 
law  of  sacrilege  which  was  being  debated  in  the 
Chamber  of  Deputies,  under  which  law  the  profana 
tion  of  the  sacred  utensils  was  to  be  punished  with 
death.  Nevertheless,  all  was  gaiety  in  this  beauteous 
summer  time.  There  were  then  noble  trees  on  the 
Boulevards,  beneath  whose  shade  we  sipped  our  ices, 
or  lingered  till  the  deep  blue  sky  was  gemmed  with 
stars.  The  gardens  of  the  Tuileries  and  the  Champs 
Elyse'es  were  filled  with  crowds  of  idlers.  Versailles, 
with  its  Grandes  Eaux,  was  to  us  a  place  of  wonder 
and  delight.  The  Palace  of  the  Grand  Monarque, 
before  Louis  Philippe  had  dedicated  its  saloons  to 
the  glories  of  the  Consulate  and  the  Empire, 
presented  historical  memorials  more  interesting  than 
picture  after  picture  of  battle  fields,  most  of  them  bad 
and'all  wearisome.  The  streets  of  Paris  were  fertile 
in  remembrances  of  a  past  generation  of  comparative 
uncivilisation.  The  stinking  gutter  stagnated  in  the 
middle  of  the  causeway,  which  had  no  trottoirs.  The 
rope  stretched  from  side  to  side,  with  the  lamp  in 
the  centre,  made  us  understand  the  meaning  of  a  la 
lanterne.  I  was  awakened  every  morning  at  five 
o'clock  by  the  cleaving  of  wood  in  the  Rue  Richelieu, 
for  the  winter  supply  of  the  Hotel  des  Princes,  in 
which  I  had  the  misfortune  to  be  lodged  in  a  front 
bed-room.  In  spite  of  some  discomforts — even  in  a 
first-rate  hotel — which  have  now  vanished,  we  were 
well  pleased  with  our  fortnight  of  sight-seeing  ;  were 
not  discomposed  by  assisting  at  the  representation  of 


THE   SECOND   EPOCH.  273 

three  farces  at  the  Theatre  des  Varie'te's,  in  which 
the  chief  humour  was  a  burlesque  of  English 
manners.  At  the  Theatre  Frangais  I  saw  Talma 
in  Sylla,  and  lost  my  belief  that  French  dramatic 
poetry  was  essentially  a  conventional  and  tame 
affair.  The  great  tragedian  united,  as  I  then  felt, 
the  majestic  impressiveness  of  Kemble  with  the 
passionate  energy  of  Kean.  I  am  afraid  that  I  was 
too  much  pleased  and  excited  in  Paris  to  attend  very 
profitably  to  business.  I  found  the  publishers  with 
whom  I  had  negotiations  very  obliging  and.  unpre 
tentious  ;  living  plainly  in  their  houses  of  business  ; 
and  not  affectii)g  to  be  anything  grander  than 
dealers  in  books,  who  had  a  shrewd  eye  to  a  bargain. 
We  travelled  homeward  through  Normandy,  where 
the  green  fields  and  the  pretty  churches  reminded  us 
of  English  scenes.  We  rested  for  a  night  at  Neuf- 
chatel,  where  we  tasted  the  delicious  little  cheeses 
fresh  in  the  place  of  their  production — a  luxury 
made  just  then  somewhat  famous  by  the  mistake  of 
a  worthy  alderman  of  London,  who,  having  first  seen 
the  delicacy  at  a  great  man's  table,  said  he  would 
order  a  hundred  of  his  correspondent,  and  was 
astonished  by  the  delivery  at  his  door  of  a  ton  or 
two  of  the  hard  cheeses  of  Switzerland,  almost  as  big 
as  a  cart  wheel.  May  I  dare  to  say,  that  some  of  the 
leisure  of  the  ladies  of  our  party  was  employed  in 
sewing  sundry  yards  of  French  silk  within  the 
lining  of  my  cloak.  Smuggling  was  then  deemed  a 
venial  offence.  Huskisson's  great  measure  removing 
the  prohibition  upon  the  importation  of  foreign  silks 
was  not  to  take  effect  till  1826. 

When  I  returned  in  September,  my  family  were 
at  Windsor.      I   had  the  opportunity,  in  company 


274  PASSAGES    OF    A   WORKING   LIFE: 

with.  Dr.  Sumner,  of  seeing  the  progress  of  the  great 
improvements  of  the  Castle,  and  of  listening  to  the 
clear  explanations  of  his  plans,  which  Mr.  Wyatville 
gave  with  the  straightforward  simplicity  characteristic 
of  his  practical  genius.  In  the  previous  summer, 
soon  after  the  commencement  of  the  works,  I  had 
gone  into  the  old  building  with  Mr.  Britton.  We 
had  found  the  architect  sitting  alone  surrounded 
with  demolished  walls  at  the  north-east  angle  of  the 
Terrace  front,  deeply  engaged  in  the  study  of  a 
ground  plan.  His  idea  of  the  beautiful  octagon 
tower,  called  Brunswick,  was  then  shaping  itself 
into  that  harmonious  combination  of  somewhat  in 
congruous  parts  which  he  so  happily  effected  in 
many  portions  of  the  fortress-palace  of  Edward  III., 
by  the  careful  preservation  of  old  features  and  the 
happy  adaptation  of  new.  I  could  not  long  linger  at 
Windsor  in  the  enjoyment  of  a  beautiful  autumn, 
but  had  to  be  much  in  London,  as  the  publishing 
season  was  approaching.  Every  day  was  then  giving 
birth  to  some  new  project  for  the  employment  of 
capital,  although  during  the  Session  of  Parliament, 
which  closed  on  the  6th  of  July,  two  hundred  and 
eighty-six  private  bills  had  been  passed  for  schemes 
of  local  improvement,  chiefly  to  be  effected  by  the 
agency  of  Joint  Stock  Companies.  You  could 
scarcely  meet  a  man  in  the  city  who  had  not  some 
thing  to  say  about  the  rise  or  the  fall  in  shares — 
shares  in  Canals,  in  Rail-roads,  in  Packets,  in  Gas 
works,  in  Mines,  in  Banks,  in  Insurance  Offices,  in 
Fisheries,  in  Sugar  and  Indigo  cultivation,  in  Irish 
Manufactures,  in  Newspapers.  At  the  beginning  of 
the  Session  the  King  had  "  the  happiness  of  con 
gratulating"  his  Parliament  on  "general  and  in- 


THE   SECOND   EPOCH.  275 

creasing  prosperity ; "  at  the  end  of  the  Session  the 
same  prosperity  "continues  to  pervade  every  part 
of  the  kingdom."  These  sanguine  views  gained  for 
the  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer  the  title  of  "  Pros 
perity  Robinson."  Turning  aside  from  thoughts  of 
French  translations  and  other  productions  of  ephe 
meral  Literature,  I  had  devised  a  large  and  compre 
hensive  scheme  of  a  "  National  Library  " — a  cheap 
series  of  books  which  should  condense  the  informa 
tion  contained  in  voluminous  and  expensive  works. 
I  prepared  a  Prospectus,  in  which  I  truly  said,  "  It 
is  to  be  remarked  that,  with  some  few  striking 
exceptions,  the  general  Literature  of  our  country  is 
either  addressed  to  men  of  leisure  and  research,  and 
is,  therefore,  bulky  and  diffuse  ;  or  it  is  frittered 
down  into  meagre  and  spiritless  outlines,  adapted 
only  for  juvenile  capacities."  I  settled  the  subjects 
of  about  a  hundred  volumes,  in  History,  Science  and 
Art,  and  Miscellaneous  Literature.  I  submitted  this 
Prospectus  to  Mr.  Colbum,  who  expressed  his  desire 
to  join  me  in  the  undertaking,  in  conjunction  with 
some  wholesale  house.  It  was  .settled  that  Mr. 
Whittaker  should  be  applied  to,  and  accordingly  the 
general  terms  of  an  agreement  were  soon  arranged 
between  us. 

During  November  I  applied  myself  assiduously  to 
the  preparation  of  a  complete  scheme  to  go  before 
the  public.  I  obtained  the  opinion  of  judicious 
advisers.  I  made  overtures  to  writers.  I  received 
a  letter  from  my  old  friend  the  Rev.  J.  M.  Turner, 
in  which  he  says,  "  I  hear  from  Mr.  Locker  that 
you  are  about  to  undertake  an  extensive  scheme 
of  publication  something  like  that  which  Constable 
is  advertising  so  assiduously.  I  shall  be  very  glad 


276  PASSAGES   OF   A  WOKKING   LIFE: 

to  enlist  as  a  contributor  to  your  stores.  Constable's 
programme  seems  very  imposing,  but  like  all  com 
prehensive  sketches  it  is  both  deficient  and  redun 
dant."  My  own  plan  was  no  doubt  open  to  the  same 
objection.  It  was  more  systematic  than  Constable's, 
and,  therefore,  perhaps  less  attractive.  I  was  in 
high  spirits  at  the  prospect  of  congenial  occupation 
in  the  editorship  of  this  series,  and  in  a  probable 
source  of  profit  with  a  limited  responsibility.  Mr. 
Whittaker  was  as  sanguine  as  myself.  We  had 
contracted  an  intimacy  as  members  of  a  Club 
of  a  peculiar  character,  of  which  there  was  no 
previous  example,  and  which,  as  far  as  I  know,  has 
had  no  imitators.  "  The  Publishers'  Club  "  included 
under  that  comprehensive  name  Authors  as  well  as 
Publishers  proper.  Mr.  Jerdan,  in  his  "  Auto 
biography,"  describes  this  Club  as  "The  Literary 
Club,"  but  I  never  knew  it  under  any  other  name 
than  "  The  Publishers'."  Our  monthly  dinner  was  at 
the  Albion,  in  Aldersgate  Street.  It  was  an  ex 
ceedingly  pleasant  association,  even  when  the  pro 
ceedings  were  not  enlivened  by  invited  guests,  such 
as  the  great  comedians  Munden  and  Mathews.  I 
remember  an  evening  of  rare  enjoyment,  when  I  sat 
by  Munden — a  man  of  the  most  exquisite  humour — 
a  great  actor  when  asked  for  an  exercise  of  his  art, 
but  returning  naturally  to  take  an  intelligent  share 
in  general  conversation.  On  ordinary  occasions,  Mr. 
Croly  harangued  in  a  style  which  some  deemed 
eloquence  ;  Mr.  Jerdan  made  puns  which  some  re 
garded  as  wit ;  and  Dr.  Kitchener  pronounced  dog 
matic  opinions  upon  cookery  and  wine.  Hood,  a 
few  years  before,  had  spread  his  fame  far  and  wide 
in  his  "  Ode  to  Dr.  Kitchener  ;"  but  I  was  not  quite 


THE    SECOND   EPOCH.  277 

aware  of  our  Vice-Chairman's  greatness  in  the  world 
of  gastronomy  till  I  saw  the'  rich  landlord  of  the 
Albion  address  himself  to  the  sage  physician,  whose 
maxim  to  ward  off  dyspepsia  was  "  masticate,  denti- 
cate,  chump,  and  chew."  As  he  sat,  eagerly  looking 
for  the  remove,  with  his  pocket-case  of  sauces  by 
his  side,  Mr.  -  -  humbly  requested  that  he  would 
deign  to  taste  of  a  certain  dish  which  the  genius 
of  his  chef  had  recently  produced.  The  fiat  of 
approval  was  given.  Henceforth  the  luxury  would 
be  classical. 

The  first  meeting  of  our  Club  season  of  1825  was 
joyous.  The  second  meeting  was  dismal.  The  com 
mercial  world  was  in  alarm.  How  well  I  remember 
the  anxious  face  of  Mr.  James  Duncan,  one  of  the 
most  prudent  and  sagacious  of  publishers !  Even 
such  a  man 

"  Drew  Priam's  curtain  in  the  dead  of  night, 
And  would  have  told  him,  half  his  Troy  was  burnt. " 

Duncan  would  have  told  us,  had  he  dared,  that  half 
the  Row  was  shaky.  Few  of  our  Club  after  this 
meeting  were  in  the  humour  for  a  monthly  festivity. 
The  Panic  had  come,  passing  over  all  our  tribe  like 
the  Simoom,  bringing  with  it  general  feebleness,  if 
not  individual  death.  Scott,  in  the  blind  confidence 
which  he  felt,  even  whilst  he  and  Constable  were 
signing  "  sheafs  of  bills,"  writes  in  his  Journal  of 
November  25th,  "After  all,  it  is  hard  that  the 
vagabond  stock -jobbing  Jews,  should,  for  their  own 
purposes,  make  such  a  state  of  credit  as  now  exists 
in  London."  If  the  "pleasant  vices"  of  speculative 
men  had  not  found  work  for  the  stock-jobbing  Jews, 
there  would  have  been  no  panic  to  become  one  of 


278  PASSAGES   OF    A   WORKING   LIFE: 

the  "  instruments  to  scourge  us  " — the  humblest 
subjects,  and  the  highest  potentates,  of  "the  realms 
of  print."  The  house  of  Whittaker  succumbed  very 
early,  and  its  affairs  were  righteously  administered 
by  Trustees,  who  in  a  few  years  restored  it  to  its 
old  position.  Hurst  and  Robinson  fell,  never  to  rise 
again,  and  pulled  down  Constable  and  Ballantyne 
with  them.  Then  began  the  heroic  period  of  Walter 
Scott's  life,  when  we  might  almost  envy  him  his 
misfortunes  and  mistakes,  in  the  contemplation  of 
the  grandeur  of  his  efforts  to  retrieve  them. 

On  the  6th  of  December  I  had  been  at  Windsor. 
Returning  to  London  by  the  afternoon  coach,  I 
learnt  that  the  banking-house  of  Williams  &  Co. 
had  stopped  payment.  They  were  the  bankers  who 
transacted  the  business  of  Messrs.  Ramsbottom  and 
Legh,  the  partners  in  our  sole  Windsor  bank,  and 
large  brewers.  I  was  upon  intimate  terms  with 
both  these  gentlemen,  and  I  dreaded  the  conse 
quence  to  them  of  this  unexpected  calamity.  Late 
at  night  they  both  arrived  at  my  house  in  Pall  Mall 
East.  We  spent  several  hours  in  anxious  consulta 
tion  ;  but  it  was  at  length  agreed  that  Mr.  Legh 
should  immediately  return  to  Windsor,  to  counter 
mand  an  order  that  had  been  given  for  the  closing 
of  their  bank  on  the  morning  of  the  7th.  It  had 
seemed  impossible  upon  the  first  receipt  of  the  dis 
astrous  intelligence  to  prevent  a  fatal  run  upon 
them ;  for  their  resources,  beyond  the  regulated 
supply  of  specie  and  banknotes  to  pay  their  own 
well-worn  pieces  of  paper — the  ordinary  currency  of 
the  town  and  neighbourhood — were  now  locked  up 
in  the  unfortunate  London  house.  Mr.  Ramsbottom 
was  one  of  the  members  for  the  borough,  very 


THE    SECOND    EPOCH.  279 

popular,  and  of  unimpeached  credit.  He  and  I  set 
out  on  an  excursion,  west  and  east,  to  seek  the 
assistance  of  bankers  and  other  capitalists,  his 
friends.  In  the  Albany  we  found  the  partners  of 
one  firm,  that  of  Messrs.  Everett,  deliberating  by 
lamp-light.  A  few  words  showed  how  unavailing 
was  the  hope  of  help  from  them  :  "  We  shall  our 
selves  stop  at  nine  o'clock."  The  dark  December 
morning  gradually  grew  lighter ;  the  gas-lamps  died 
out ;  but  long  before  it  was  perfect  day  we  found 
Lombard  Street  blocked  up  by  eager  crowds,  each 
man  struggling  to  be  foremost  at  the  bank  where  he 
kept  his  account  if  its  doors  should  be  opened.  We 
entered  several  of  the  banks  where  the  counters 
were  surrounded  by  the  presenters  of  cheques ;  and 
were  witnesses  to  the  calm  which  sustains  the  honest 
English  trader  in  the  hour  of  difficulty,  even  as  it 
has  sustained  many  a  naval  commander  when  the 
ship  has  struck  upon  a  sunken  rock,  and  his  own 
safety  is  the  last  consideration.  There  was  a 
London  office  of  Messrs.  Ramsbottom's  brewery  ;  and 
here  we  found  a  considerable  sum  that,  through  the 
prudence  of  the  principal  clerk,  had  not  been  paid 
in  on  the  6th  to  their  banking  agents  in  Birchin 
Lane.  We  decided  upon  a  plan  of  action,  the  artifice 
of  which  was  justified  by  the  necessity  of  the  case. 
I  took  my  seat  in  a  postchaise  with  my  treasure — 
something  less  than  a  thousand  pounds — and  was 
whirled  to  Windsor  in  a  couple  of  hours  by  four 
horses.  As  I  changed  horses  at  Hounslow,  or  stopped 
at  turnpikes,  I  proclaimed,  "  funds  for  the  Windsor 
Bank."  The  news  spread  down  the  road  in  that 
extraordinary  way  in  which  news,  good  or  bad,  is 
promulgated.  I  drove  triumphantly  into  the  yard 


280  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE: 

of  the  Bank,  amidst  the  hurrahs  of  a  multitude  out 
side,  to  whom  I  had  proclaimed  my  mission.  There 
was  a  meeting  at  the  same  time  taking  place  at  the 
Town  Hall,  at  which  my  townsmen  entered  into 
resolutions  declaring  their  opinion  of  the  solvency  of 
the  firm,  and  the  necessity  of  not  pressing  upon 
them  in  the  hour  of  difficulty.  The  bank  was  saved. 
Its  failure  would  have  spread  general  dismay  and 
misery ;  especially  as  several  of  the  tradesmen  largely 
employed  in  the  alterations  of  the  Castle  depended 
upon  advances  for  wages  upon  their  credit  accounts 
with  Messrs.  Ramsbottom.  I  went  the  next  day  to 
Dr.  Sumner,  and  represented  to  him  that  a  prompt 
payment  of  arrears  from  the  Board  of  Works  would 
be  an  immense  relief.  With  a  ready  kindness  he 
applied  to  the  highest  quarter.  The  King's  inter 
vention, — then,  perhaps,  more  potent  in  overcoming 
obstacles  of  routine  than  in  the  present  day — quickly 
accomplished  this  object.  Williams  &  Co.  resumed 
.payments  in  a  few  weeks. 

Lockhart,  in  his  life  of  Scott,  relates  that  in 
January,  1826,  Constable,  awakening  from  his  dream 
of  safety  from  impending  ruin,  had  come  to  London 
with  the  resolution  of  applying  to  the  Bank  of 
England,  "for  a  loan  of  from  100,OOOZ.  to  200,000?. 
on  the  security  of  the  copyrights  in  his  possession." 
Copyrights,  in  that  perilous  season,  were  a  most 
unmarketable  commodity ;  and  the  Governor  and 
Company  of  the  Bank  of  England,  or  indeed  any 
other  bankers,  would  have  regarded  such  securities, 
and  even  the  most  valuable  stock  of  a  publisher, 
as  so  much  waste  paper.  My  own  credit  was  un- 
assailed  amidst  suspicions  on  every  side.  I  had  no 
engagements  that  had  arisen  out  of  the  system  of 


THE   SECOND   EPOCH.  281 

accommodation  bills, — those  treacherous  allies  who 
pull  down  the  strongest  in  the  hour  of  mortal 
conflict.  Such  desperate  help  in  tiding  over  diffi 
culties  was  fully  developed  in  all  its  evils  by  that 
unsparing  Panic.  I  had  trade  engagements  that 
would  have  been  duly  met,  if  a  paralysis  of  commerce 
had  not  been  eventually  as  dangerous  as  its  apoplexy  ; 
chronic  decay  as  fatal  as  sudden  extinction.  The' 
publications  of  1825  would  no  longer  sell  in  1826 ; 
the  new  works  projected,  written,  half  printed, 
advertised,  must  wait  for  a  more  propitious  time. 
The  "  tender  leaves  "  would  not  endure  that  "  killing 
frost."  This  was  the  reasoning  of  most  of  us — of 
nearly  all,  with  the  exception  of  Mr.  Colburn,  who 
pushed  his  new  works  with  great  vigour,  having  the 
market  of  light  literature  almost  wholly  to  him 
self.  He  was  perhaps  more  right  than  his  fellows, 
in  following  a  course  which  the  most  wonderful 
Common-sense,  lifted  into  the  noblest  poetry  by  the 
power  of  Imagination,  has  prescribed  as  well  for 
publishers  as  for  statesmen  :— 

"  To  have  done,  is  to  hang 
Quite  out  of  fashion,  like  a  rusty  mail 
In  monumental  mockery." 

Troilus  and  Cressida. 

For  myself,  I  saw  and  heard  so  much  of  commercial 
misery,  of  fear  that  kills,  of  unmerited  suspicion 
troubling  the  sleep  of  the  most  prudent,  that  the 
spring  was  passing  into  summer,  and  I  began  to  look 
upon  1826  as  a  lost  year  of  business.  I  could  not 
resolve  to  "take  the  instant  way" — to  "keep  the 
path."  I  had  achieved  something  like  a  position  in 
1825.  I  could  scarcely  hope  to  regain  it  by  follow 
ing  the  usual  course  of  publishing  books  that  might 


282  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE  I 

live  their  little  hour  of  novelty  and  then  pass  to  the 
trunk  makers.  Every  day  made  me  sick  of  my  occu 
pation.  "  The  Brazen  Head,"  of  which  I  have 
spoken,  dropped  upon  the  town  like  a  leaden  lump. 
Credit  was  whispered  away.  Harsh  judgments  were 
pronounced  upon  the  unlucky.  In  this  dark  season 
I  sometimes  heard  the  raven-croak  of  a  man  who 
peeped  into  every  corner,  and  was  nightly  exhibited 
in  his  peeping  attitude  to  laughing  play-goers.  The 
Paul  Pry  of  Liston  was  a  chubby,  rosy-faced,  good- 
natured,  but  essentially  mischievous  meddler,  known 
as  Tom  Hill.  He  would  lay  hold  of  your  button  in 
the  streets,  and  detain  you  by  some  such  talk  as 
this : — "  Do  you  know  if  W —  has  given  up  his 
hunter  ?  I  asked  one  of  his  porters,  and  he  wouldn't 

tell  me Isn't  it  suspicious  to  see and  Co. 

sending  a  waggon  load  of  stock  from  their  ware 
house  ?  .  .  .  .  Do  give  a  hint  to  your  friend  in • 

Street,  that  his  servants  are  very  extravagant.  I 
looked  down  his  area  and  saw  them  having  hot  rolls 
for  breakfast."  I  got  away  from  this  moral  fog  of 
London  as  soon  as  I  could.  I  was  shut  up,  moody 
and  irresolute,  at  Windsor,  in  the  summer,  project- 
ting,  planning,  re-arranging  my  "  National  Library  " 
scheme,  which  had  been  stifled  by  the  panic  before 
its  birth ;  adding  a  book  here  and  there,  or  cur 
tailing  the  list,  already  too  long.  I  was  about  to 
return  to  London  with  no  more  preparation  for 
a  coming  campaign  than  half  a  dozen  various  pro 
spectuses  of  this  work.  It  had  become  a  fixed  idea 
with  me,  to  the  exclusion  of  all  minor  purposes  of 
business  or  literary  occupation. 

In  the  autumn  of  1826  Mr.  Brougham  was  or 
ganizing  his  "Society  for   the  Diffusion  of  Useful 


THE   SECOND   EPOCH.  283 

Knowledge."  The  Long  Vacation  was  at  an  end, 
and  in  that  November,  the  prospectus  of  the  new 
society  was  privately  circulated.  It  said, — "The 
object  of  the  Society  is  strictly  limited  to  what  its 
title  imports,  namely,  the  imparting  useful  informa 
tion  to  all  classes  of  the  community,  particularly  to 
such  as  are  unable  to  avail  themselves  of  ex 
perienced  teachers,  or  may  prefer  learning  by  them 
selves."  Here,  then,  appeared  an  opening  for  the 
nurture  of  my  cherished  scheme,  of  which  I  ought 
to  avail  myself.  At  Windsor,  in  November,  I 
received  a  letter  from  Mr.  M.  D.  Hill,  wishing  me 
to  come  to  town  immediately,  as  he  had  mentioned 
my  plan  of  popular  books  to  Mr.  Brougham,  and  to 
a  committee  for  the  encouragement  of  such  a  project, 
and  that  he  thought  great  things  might  be  done. 
Of  course  this  communication  brought  me  instantly 
to  London ;  and  I  was  very  quickly  introduced 
by  Mr.  Hill  to  Mr.  Brougham.  That  interview  is 
indelibly  impressed  upon  my  memory  with  all  its 
attendant  circumstances.  I  had  never  come  across 
the  renowned  orator  in  private  life,  or  had  seen  him 
under  an  every-day  character.  There  was  an  image 
in  my  mind  of  the  Queen's  Attorney-General,  as  I  had 
often  beheld  him  in  the  House  of  Lords,  wielding  a 
power  in  the  proceedings  on  the  Bill  of  Pains  and 
Penalties  which  no  other  man  seemed  to  possess — 
equivocating  witnesses  crouching  beneath  his  wither 
ing  scorn ;  mighty  peers  shrinking  from  his  bold 
sarcasm ;  the  whole  assembly  visibly  agitated  at 
times  by  the  splendour  of  his  eloquence.  The 
Henry  Brougham  I  had  gazed  upon  was,  in  my 
mind's  eye,  a  man  stern  and  repellent ;  not  to  be 
approached  with  any  attempt  at  familiarity ;  whose 


284  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE: 

opinions  must  be  received  with  the  most  respectful 
deference  ;  whose  mental  superiority  would  be  some 
what  overwhelming.  The  Henry  Brougham  into 
whose  chambers  in  Lincoln's  Inn  I  was  ushered  on 
a  November  night  was  sitting  amidst  his  briefs, 
evidently  delighted  to  be  interrupted  for  some 
thoughts  more  attractive.  After  saluting  my  friend 
with  a  joke,  and  grasping  my  hand  with  a  cordial 
welcome,  he  went  at  once  to  the  subject  upon  which 
I  came.  The  rapid  conception  of  the  features  of  my 
plan  ;  the  few  brief  questions  as  to  my  wishes  ;  the 
manifestation  of  a  warm  interest  in  my  views  with 
out  the  slightest  attempt  to  be  patronizing,  were 
most  gratifying  to  me.  The  image  of  the  great 
orator  of  1820  altogether  vanished  when  I  listened 
to  the  unpretentious  and  often  playful  words  of  one 
of  the  best  table-talkers  of  1826, — it  vanished,  even 
as  the  full-bottomed  wig  of  that  time  seemed  to. 
have  belonged  to  some  other  head  than  the  close- 
cropped  one  upon  which  I  looked.  The  foremost 
advocate  of  popular  education  made  no  harangues 
about  its  advantages.  He  did  not  indoctrinate  me, 
as  I  have  been  bored  by  many  an  educationist 
before  and  since,  with  flourishes  upon  a  subject 
which  he  gave  Mr.  Hill  and  myself  full  credit 
for  comprehending.  M.  Charles  Dupin  said  to 
Mackintosh,  after  a  night  in  the  House  of  Com 
mons — "  I  heard  not  one  word  about  the  bless 
ings  of  Liberty." — "  No,  no/'  replied  Mackintosh, 
"we  take  all  that  for  granted."  So  did  Henry 
Brougham  take  for  granted  that  he  and  I  were 
in  accord  upon  the  subject  of  the  Diffusion  of 
Knowledge.  He  was  then  within  a  few  days  of  the 
completion  of  his  forty-seventh  year ;  full  of  health 


THE   SECOND   EPOCH.  285 

and  energy — one  who  had  been  working  without 
intermission  in  literature,  in  science,  in  law,  in 
politics,  for  a  quarter  of  a  century,  but  one  to 
whom  no  work  seemed  to  bring  fatigue ;  no  tedious 
mornings  of  the  King's  Bench,  no  sleepless  nights 
of  the  House  of  Commons,  able  to  "  stale  his  infinite 
variety."  From  that  hour  I  felt  more  confidence  in 
talking  with  perfect  freedom  to  him  who  worthily 
filled  so  large  a  space  in  the  world's  eye,  than  to  many 
a  man  of  commonplaces,  whose  depths  I  had  plumbed 
and  had  found  them  shallow.  That  first  interview 
with  Mr.  Brougham  was  an  event  that  had  a  marked 
influence  upon  many  subsequent  passages  of  my 
life. 

It  would  be  a  fruitless  and  wearisome  story  of 
private  affairs,  were  I  to  detail  the  circumstances 
under  which  my  unfortunate  "National  Library," 
having  been  at  first  taken  up  by  the  Society  of 
which  Mr.  Brougham  was  President,  and  negotia 
tions  having  been  opened  with  their  publishers,  was 
finally  adopted  by  Mr.  Murray,  with  an  earnestness 
which  was  to  me  very  assuring,  after  my  long  term 
of  enforced  idleness  and  dark  apprehensions.  The 
eminent  West-end  publisher  was  committed  to  the 
enterprise,  by  the  issue  of  the  Prospectus  in  his  own 
name,  which  I  had  so  carefully  prepared.  In  my 
original  Prospectus,  which  I  had  submitted  to  Mr. 
Murray  in  February,  1826,  I  had  said,  "  It  is  our 
peculiar  object  to  condense  the  information  which  is 
scattered  through  voluminous  and  expensive  works, 
into  the  form  and  substance  of  Original  Treatises." 
In  the  Prospectus  issued  on  the  24th  of  December, 
it  was  set  forth  that  "  the  divisions  of  Popular  Know 
ledge  in  which  the  National  Library  is  arranged,  will 


286  PASSAGES   OF   A  WORKING   LIFE: 

comprehend,  in  distinct  Treatises,  the  most  important 
branches  of  instruction  and  amusement.  They  will 
present  the  most  valuable  and  interesting  articles  of 
an  Encyclopaedia,  in  a  form  accessible  to  every  descrip 
tion'  of  purchaser."  This  final  Prospectus  is  printed, 
in  extenso,  in  Goodhugh's  "  English  Gentleman's 
Library  Manual," — published  in  May,  1827.  Differ 
ences  of  opinion  about  the  editorial  responsibility  of 
the  series  too  soon  arose.  Quis  custodiet  was 
answered  by  the  apparition  of  a  very  solemn  divine, 
who  talked  as  a  "  Sir  Oracle."  Arrangements 
regarding  my  old  stock  and  copyrights,  which  it 
was  considered — I  may  say  perfectly  understood — 
were  to  be  taken  at  a  valuation,  when  I  was  about 
to  merge  my  business  in  the  great  house  of  Albe- 
marle  Street,  presented  new  obstacles.  Thus  were 
my  prospects  clouded  in  a  few  weeks  of  1827.  I  was 
heartsick  at  last,  and  abandoning  the  whole  scheme 
left  it  for  the  imitation  of  others  of  more  independent 
means.  The  Society  for  the  Diffusion  of  Useful 
Knowledge  produced  their  "  Treatises "  in  March, 
and  Messrs.  Longman  their  Lardner's  "  Cabinet 
Cyclopaedia  "  a  few  years  afterwards.  Mr.  Murray,  I 
had  reason  to  believe,  had  become  frightened  at  the 
magnitude  of  my  plan.  He  several  times  said  to  me, 
"  where  will  you  find  the  men  to  write  these  books  ? " 
In  my  maturer  experience  I  came  to  perceive  that 
this  was  the  real  difficulty  in  such  undertakings. 

Let  me  hasten  to  close  these  recollections  of  the 
spring  of  1827.  Scott  writes  of  old  letters,  some 
where  in  his  Diary,  "  they  rise  up  as  scorpions  to  hiss 
at  me."  So  may  I  write  of  the  documents  by  which 
I  trace  this  crisis  of  my  life.  My  abortive  efforts  to 
begin  a  new  career,  shaking  off  future  responsibilities 


THE    SECOND    EPOCH.  287 

of  trade,  made  the  responsibilities  which  remained 
more  onerous.  My  boat  was  stranded.  Happily  for 
me  there  were  no  wreckers  at  hand  ready  for  the 
plunder  of  my  damaged  cargo.  A  private  trust 
administered  my  affairs,  whose  only  concern  was  to 
realize — to  sell,  to  the  best  advantage,  land,  houses, 
newspaper,  stock,  copyrights.  I  would  not  be  a 
burden.  I  would  earn  my  own  bread.  I  walked  forth 
from  my  business  homes  in  London  and  Windsor,  after 
the  fashion  of  a  man  represented  in  a  wood-cut  in  a 
title-page  of  one  of  the  old  printers  (I  think  it  was 
a  work  of  Budseus)  which  comes  into  my  thoughts — a 
man,  not  bowed  down  by  age  or  sorrow,  moving  for 
ward,  not  briskly,  but  not  unsteadily,  with  his  stout 
staff,  and  his  small  wallet,  and  a  label  of  four  words, 
— "OMNIA  MEA  MECUM  PORTO." 


13 


CHAPTEE  XIII. 

AM  living  at  Brompton,  with  my  wife  and 
four  little  girls.  The  house  which  we 
have  chosen  in  which  to  begin  a  new  and 
unambitious  life  is  in  a  narrow  road, 
called  Cromwell  Lane,  through  which  few  people 
pass.  Our  long  slip  of  garden  is  bounded  on  one 
side  by  the  high  wall  of  Cromwell  House,  the  reputed 
mansion  of  the  Protector.  We  are  surrounded  by 
nursery  grounds.  I  can  no  longer  find  the  place 
where  I  dwelt  for  two  or  three  years.  The  few 
unpretending  houses,  nestling  in  snug  gardens,  have 
given  place  to  squares,  and  rows,  and  to  "  Great 
Exhibition  "  buildings — themselves  doomed  prema 
turely  to  perish.  Perchance  I  might  discover  some 
traces  of  the  quiet  corner  if  the  humble  tavern  still 
remains  that  was  once  known  as  "  The  Hoop  and 
Toy."  Does  the  "  Goat  in  Boots "  still  exist  ?— 
another  landmark.  The  daughter  of  a  very  dear 
friend,  who  afterwards  occupied  our  house,  was  eager 
to  tell  us  that, "when  she  visited  the  Exhibition  of 
1862,  she  rejoiced  to  find,  in  a  small  plot  of  ground 
not  yet  subdued  to  the  tyranny  of  brick  and  mortar, 
a  single  apple-tree,  which  she  could  identify  as  the 
tree  under  which  she  had  sat  as  a  child,  looking  wist 
fully  up  at  the  ripening  fruit.  Why  do  I  linger  about 
this  unpretentious  abiding  place  of  1827  ?  Because 


THE   SECOND    EPOCH.  289 

it  was  to  me  as  a  city  of  refuge.  Here  I  first 
relinquished  the  hope  of  commercial  success,  having 
surrendered  to  others  my  commercial  responsibilities. 
I  had  much  for  which  to  be  grateful  to  the  All-giver. 
I  had  preserved  my  bodily  and  mental  health.  I 
had  domestic  confidence  and  peace.  The  "  precious 
jewel"  in  the  toad's  head  was  not  undiscovered.  I 
was  determined  to  work,  and  I  was  equally  resolved 
to  be  as  happy  as  I  could  be.  I  did  not  repine  at 
the  turn  of  Fortune's  wheel.  Amongst  some  papers 
of  this  period  I  find  a  scrap  on  which  I  had  written, 
— If  the  capacity  to  enjoy  were  commensurate  with 
the  power  to  possess,  we  then,  indeed,  might  com 
plain  of  the  inequality  of  our  conditions. 

Looking  back  upon  the  summer  of  1827,  I  have 
no  recollection  of  such  hours  of  gloom  as  belonged 
to  the  previous  year.  No  unkindness  wounded  my 
pride  ;  no  desertion  of  old  friends  rendered  me  mis 
anthropical.  I  had  quickly  obtained  an  engagement 
as  a  writer  in  Mr.  Buckingham's  new  paper,  "  The 
Sphinx."  High-priced  as  it  was — a  shilling — it  had 
a  considerable  sale.  I  wrote  political  articles  and 
reviews.  At  that  time  I  was  an  enthusiast  in  public 
affairs.  Canning  was  the  head  of  a  new  administra 
tion.  On  the  1st  of  May  I  had  stood  in  the  crowded 
avenues  of  the  House  of  Commons,  and  had  seen  for 
a  moment  his  radiant  face,  as  he  rapidly  mounted  the 
old  staircase  which  led  to  the  lobby,  about  to  take  the 
foremost  place,  and  vindicate  his  policy  before  many 
detractors  and  some  new  friends.  There  were  whis 
pered  blessings  upon  many  lips.  In  that  triumph 
of  the  minister  who  had  shaken  off  the  shackles 
of  the  great  Continental  Powers,  and  had  carried 
England  "  into  the  camp  of  progress  and  liberty,"  I 


290  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE: 

regarded  the  man  as  the  "  deliverer "  described  by 
Burke,  in  words  almost  profane  in  their  idolatrous 
admiration.  But  I  may  look  back  upon  that  memo 
rable  occasion,  and  soberly  say, — "  Nor  ,  did  he  seem 
insensible  to  the  best  of  all  earthly  rewards,  the  love 
and  admiration  of  his  fellow  citizens.  Hope  ele 
vated  and  joy  brightened  his  crest." — [Speech  on 
American  Taxation,  1774.]  On  the  16th  of  August 
I  saw  him  laid  in  his  grave,  in  the  north  transept  of 
Westminster  Abbey.  On  the  previous  20th  of  Janu 
ary,  I  had  seen  him  standing  for  two  hours  of  the 
bitterest  night,  upon  the  cold  unmatted  pavement  of 
the  nave  of  St.  George's  Chapel,  at  the  funeral  of  the 
Duke  of  York.  He  did  not  take  the  precaution 
which  he  had  suggested  to  Lord  Eldon,  to  stand  upon 
his  cocked  hat.  That  funeral  broke  up  the  delicate 
health  of  George  Canning. 

My  course  of  journalism  under  Mr.  James  Silk 
Buckingham  was  not  agreeable.  Perhaps  I  had  been 
too  long  my  own  master  in  such  matters  to  brook 
control  and  criticism.  Perhaps  I  formed  too  low  an 
estimate  of  his  knowledge  and  ability.  His  wonder 
ful  fluency  as  a  platform  speaker,  pouring  forth  plati 
tude  after  platitude,  was  calculated  to  catch  the 
multitude.  He  has  written  scores  of  volumes  in  the 
same  style,  and  I  may  ask  "  where  are  they  ? "  I 
cared  not  how  wearisome  were  his  own  newspaper 
prolusions  ;  but  I  rebelled  against  his  unparalleled 
conceit.  He  outraged  me  by  presuming  to  alter,  in 
his  own  obtuse  fashion,  some  spirited  lines  on  the 
death  of  Canning,  which  Praed  had  sent  me.  I  at 
once  quitted  his  office — where  I  had  diligently 
laboured,  and  not  without  success — when  he  pro 
posed  an  amended  scale  of  remuneration  for  critiques 


THE    SECOND   EPOCH.  291 

on  new  books,  beginning  at  half-a-crown  and  rising 
to  a  guinea,  according  to  the  length  of  the  article.  I 
know  not  whether  he  found  journeymen  at  this  rate. 
I  know  not  whether  literature  was  degraded  then,  or 
is  now,  by  the  pretence  of  giving  an  opinion  of  a 
book  amongst  what  are  called  "  short  notices,"  at 
the  rate  of  threepence  a  line,  to  be  earned  by  men 
who  ought  to  have  been  hewers  of  wood  and  drawers 
of  water.  Happily  a  more  worthy  course  of  industry 
was  opening  for  me.  But  before  I  enter  upon  the 
"  passages "  of  an  employment  which  was  spread 
over  nearly  twenty  years,  let  me  glance  at  a  tempo 
rary  labour  of  1827.  What  were  then  called 
"  The  Annuals "  were  introduced  to  England  by 
Mr.  Ackermann,  in  his  "  Forget-me-not  "  of  1822. 
Alaric  Watts  followed  with  his  "  Literary  Souvenir." 
Samuel  Carter  Hall  started  "  The  Amulet,"  for  the 
especial  use  of  "  serious  persons."  In  1827  I  was 
asked  to  edit  "  Friendship's  Offering."  It  was  an 
enterprise  hastily  entered  upon  by  Messrs.  Smith  and 
Elder,  late  in  the  season,  and  I  had  to  obtain  pictures 
for  engraving,  secure  contributors,  and  see  the  book 
through  the  press  in  two  or  three  months.  The 
pleasantest  thing  about  the  engagement  was  that 
my  friends  of  the  "  Quarterly  Magazine,"  Mr.  Praed 
and  Mr.  Moultrie,  with  others  of  their  following, 
rallied  round  me,  and  contributed  the  most  original 
pages  of  a  volume,  for  which,  like  its  rivals,  there 
would  be  no  lack  of  sentimental  stories,  and  verses 
somewhat  mawkish  with  their  bowers  and  flowers. 
The  most  disagreeable  thing  was,  that  a  blockhead 
behind  the  scenes,  in  the  confidence  of  the  pub 
lishers,  took  upon  himself  to  change  the  title  which 
Praed  had  given  to  his  poem,  and  had  it  printed 


292  PASSAGES   OF   A   WOEKING   LIFE: 

as  "  The  Red  Fisherman  "  instead  of  "  The  Devil's 
Decoy."  My  friend  had  nearly  quarrelled  with  me 
about  this  matter,  in  which  I  was  really  blameless. 
He  had  a  right  to  be  angry,  for  the  poem  was,  I 
am  inclined  to  think,  his  chef-d'oeuvre.  New  An 
nuals  stai'ted  up,  in  the  next  and  few  following 
years,  amongst  the  best  of  which  was  "  The  Anni 
versary,"  edited  by  Allan  Cunningham,  who  had 
it  in  his  power  to  make  as  good  a  book  of  this 
sort  as  could  be  produced,  from  the  esteem  with 
which  he  was  regarded  by  the  best  writers  and  the 
best  artists.  There  were  Keepsakes,  and  Gems,  and 
Bijous  ;  but  these  delicate  flowerets  of  the  literary 
hotbed  had  a  brief  existence.  They  did  more  for 
the  arts  than  for  letters.  They  had  set  a  great 
many  people  scribbling,  who  would  never  have 
dreamt  of  committing  the-  sin  of  rhyme  without 
such  excitements,  and  they  had  compelled  some  of 
those  who  could  write  well  to  adopt  a  style  anything 
but  vigorous  and  original.  They  were  perhaps  right, 
and  so  were  the  editors  and  publishers.  It  was  a 
period  in  which,  except  in  a  few  rare  instances, 
mediocrity  was  essentially  necessary  to  great  literary 
success.  There  was  a  poem  entitled  "  The  Omni 
presence  of  the  Deity,"  by  one  whose  fame  settled 
into  the  name  of  "  the  wrong  Montgomery  ; "  the 
good  old  champion  of  freedom,  the  right  Mont 
gomery,  being,  then  alive  and  honoured  by  all  com 
petent  judges.  It  went  rapidly  through  five  or  six 
editions.  The  "  Excursion "  had  reached  a  second 
edition  in  ten  years. 

A  document,  which  I  value  as  a  soldier  who  has 
seen  long  service  values  his  first  Commission,  lies 
before  me : — 


THE    SECOND    EPOCH.  293 

"  GENERAL  MEETING  of  the  Committee  for  the  Diffusion  of 
Useful.  Knowledge.— 26th  July,  1827. 

"  James  Mill,  Esq.,  in  the  Chair. 

"  Mr.  Hill  having  informed  the  Committee  that  Mr.  Charles 
Knight  was  willing  to  undertake  the  superintendence  of  the 
Society's  Publications,  it  was 

"  Resolved,— 

"  That  his  services  be  accepted,  and  that  it  be  referred  to 
the  Publication  Committee  to  furnish  him  with  the  necessary 
instructions." 

At  that  time  the  only  publications  of  the  Society 
were  the  Treatises  of  the  "  Library  of  Useful  Know 
ledge,"  issued  fortnightly  in  sixpenny  numbers.  The 
Series  had  been  commenced  in  the  Spring,  with  Mr. 
Brougham's  "  Discourse  on  the  Objects,  Advantages, 
and  Pleasures  of  Science."  The  sale  of  this  work 
had  been  as  extraordinary  as  its  merits  were  striking 
and  almost  unexampled.  Some  called  it  superficial, 
because  it  touched  rapidly  upon  many  departments 
of  scientific  knowledge  ;  but  the  more  just  conclusion 
was  that  it  was  the  work  of  "  a  full  man/'  who  had 
not  laboriously  elaborated  this  fascinating  treatise  out 
of  books  recently  studied  or  hastily  referred  to,  bat 
had  poured  it  forth  out  of  the  accumulated  wealth  of 
his  rich  treasury  of  knowledge.  No  reader  to  whom 
the  subjects  treated  of  were  in  any.  degree  new  could 
read  this  little  book  without  feeling  an  ardent  desire 
to  know  more — to  know  all.  Such  were  my  own 
feelings  as  I  devoured  this  tract  on  the  outside  of  an 
Aylesbury  coach,  and  bitterly  regretted  that  upon 
mere  business  considerations  I  had  lost  the  chance  of 
becoming  intimate  with  the  author  of  such  a  book, 
as  his  fellow-labourer  in  the  work  of  popular  en 
lightenment.  It  could  scarcely  be  expected  that 
many  other  Treatises  could  have  the  same  attraction 


294  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE: 

as  this  Preliminary  Discourse.  They  were  to  be 
manuals  for  self-education — clear,  accurate,  but  not 
to  be  mastered  without  diligence  and  perseverance. 
Their  success  made  it  clear  that  there  was  a  great 
body  of  students — whether  in  Colleges  or  Mechanics' 
Institutes,  in  busy  towns  or  quiet  villages,  to  whom 
such  guides  would  be  welcome.  My  duties,  in  con 
nexion  with  this  Series,  were  scarcely  more  than 
ministerial.  I  had  to  read  manuscripts  and  give  an 
opinion  upon  them,  although  the  decision  did  not 
rest  with  me  but  with  the  Committee.  Upon  the 
higher  scientific  subjects  I  was  not  competent  to  give 
an  opinion  as  regarded  their  correctness,  but  I  could 
judge  how  far  they  were  adapted  for  popular  use.  I 
was  thus  what  the  Germans,  I  believe, call  a  Vorleser. 
Proofs  went  through  my  hands  as  they  passed  the  Com 
mittee,  and  the  printers  were  kept  up  to  their  work. 
I  could  not  reasonably  shrink  from  this  drudgery, 
for  I  saw  men  of  high  station  and  literary  eminence 
— statesmen,  lawyers,  physicians,  willingly  perform 
ing  it.  It  was  not  necessary  that  I  should  regularly 
attend  at  the  Offices  of  the  Society  in  Furnival's 
Inn  ;  but  I  had  often  to  confer  with  Mr.  Coates,  the 
active  and  intelligent  Secretary  of  the  Society,  and 
to  attend  some  meetings  of  the  general  and  special 
Committees.  I  gradually  came  to  form  a  just  esti 
mate  of  the  individual  characters  and  qualifications  of 
those  with  whom  I  was  brought  in  contact.  I  found 
them,  collectively,  very  different  from  provincial 
Committees  of  which  I  had  once  had  some  experience 
— earnest  in  the  pursuit  of  a  common  object  ;  not 
intent  upon  personal  display  or  the  assertion  of  petty 
self-importance  ;  men  of  cultivated  minds,  each  treat 
ing  the  opinions  of  the  others  with  respect ;  the  most 


THE   SECOND   EPOCH.  295 

capable  amongst  them  the  most  modest  ;  in  a  word, 
gentlemen  and  scholars.  I  felt  that  it  depended 
upon  myself  some  day  to  win  their  confidence  in  a 
position  of  higher  responsibility  than  my  early  labours 
demanded. 

In  these  pursuits,  the  summer  of  1827  wore  away. 
I  was  not  without  my  pleasures.  I  delighted  to 
walk  in  Kensington  Gardens,  sometimes  on  a  holiday 
afternoon  with  my  elder  girls — more  frequently  in 
the  early  morning  on  my  way  to  town.  Glancing — 
in  the  intervals  of  my  present  task  of  reviving  old 
memories, — at  the  work  of  a  poet  who  ought  to  be 
more  widely  known,  I  find  these  lines  : — 

"  Once  as  I  stray 'd  a  student,  happiest  then, 
"What  time  the  summer's  garniture  was  on, 
Beneath  "the  princely  shades  of  Kensington, 
A  girl  I  spied,  whose  years  might  number  ten, 
With  full  round  eyes,  and  fair  soft  English  face."* 

In  such  a  season,  when  the  sun  was  scarcely  high 
enough  to  have  dried  up  the  dews  of  Kensington's 
green  alleys,  as  I  passed  along  the  broad  central 
walk,  I  saw  a  group  on  the  lawn  before  the  Palace, 
which,  to  my  mind,  was  a  vision  of  exquisite  loveli 
ness.  The  Duchess  of  Kent,  and  her  daughter, 
whose  years  then  numbered  nine,  are  breakfasting 
in  the  open  air — a  single  page  attending  upon  them 
at  a  respectful  distance — -the  matron  looking  on  with 
eyes  of  love,  whilst  the  "  fair  soft  English  face  "  is 
bright  with  smiles.  The  world  of  fashion  is  not  yet 
astir.  Clerks  and  mechanics,  passing  onward  to  their 
occupations,  are  few ;  and  they  exhibit  nothing  of 

*  "  Lays  of  Middle  Age  ;  "  by  James  Hedderwick,  1859. 


296  PASSAGES    OF   A   WOEKING   LIFE  I 

that  vulgar  curiosity  which  I  think  is  more  com 
monly  found  in  the  class  of  the  merely  rich,  than  in 
the  ranks  below  them  in  the  world's  estimation. 
What  a  beautiful  characteristic  it  seemed  to  me  of 
the  training  of  this  royal  girl,  that  she  should  not 
have  been  taught  to  shrink  from  the  public  eye — • 
that  she  should  not  have  been  burthened  with  a 
premature  conception  of  her  probable  high  destiny 
—that  she  should  enjoy  the  freedom  and  simplicity 
of  a  child's  nature — that  she  should  not  be  restrained 
when  she  starts  up  from  the  breakfast-table  and  runs 
to  gather  a  flower  in  the  adjoining  parterre — that 
her  merry  laugh  should  be  as  fear]  ess  as  the  notes  of 
the  thrush  in  the  groves  around  her.  I  passed  on 
and  blessed  her ;  and  I  thank  God  that  I  have  lived 
to  see  the  golden  fruits  of  such  training. 

At  this  period  the  Almanacs  of  the  Stationers' 
Company  were  published  within  a  few  days  of  Lord 
Mayor's  Day,  the  9th  of  November.  Before  their 
issue,  the  Master  and  other  magnates  of  the  Com 
pany  used  to  go  in  their  barge  to  Lambeth,  to 
present  copies  of  all  their  Almanacs  to  the  Arch 
bishop  of  Canterbury.  In  Erskine's  famous  Speech 
in  1779,  when  Lord  North  brought  a  Bill  into  the 
House  of  Commons  for  re-vesting  in  the  Stationers' 
Company  a  monopoly  which  had  been  declared 
illegal  by  the  Court  of  Common  Pleas  in  1775,  he 
adverted  to  "  the  episcopal  revision  "  which  formerly 
existed,  when  the  Universities,  as  well  as  the  Sta 
tioners'  Company,  were  alone  authorised  to  print 
Almanacs.  "  It  is  notorious,"  said  the  great  advo 
cate,  "  that  the  Universities  sell  their  right  to  the 
Stationers'  Company  for  a  fixed  annual  sum  ;  and  it 
is  equally  notorious,  that  the  Stationers'  Company 


THE    SECOND   EPOCH.  297 

make  a  scandalous  job  of  the  bargain ;  and  to  in 
crease  the  sale  of  Almanacs  amongst  the  vulgar, 
publish,  under  the  auspices  of  religion  and  learning, 
the  most  senseless  absurdities."  .His  respect  for  the 
House,  he  said,  prevented  him  from  citing  some 
sentences  from  the  one  hundred  and  thirteenth  of 
the  series  of  Poor  Robin's  Almanac,  published  under 
the  revision  of  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  and 
the  Bishop  of  London.  "  The  worst  part  of  Roches 
ter  is  ladies'  reading,  compared  with  them."  The 
monopoly  of  1779  wa,s  destroyed.  But  the  powerful 
Company  bought  off  the  competitors  who  rose  up 
from  time  to  time.  They  had  become  possessed  in 
1827  of  an  exclusive  market  for  stamped  Almanacs  ; 
and,  in  the  absence  of  all  competition,  the  absurdities 
and  the  indecencies  flourished  as  vigorously  as  when 
Erskine  denounced  them  half  a  century  before.  The 
solemn  farce  was  still  enacted  once  a  year  of  laying 
these  productions  at  the  feet  of  the  Primate,  when 
"  episcopal  revision"  for  state  purposes  was  as  extinct 
as  the  Star  Chamber.  They  were  still,  as  Erskine 
described  the  ancient  mockery,  to  be  "  sanctified  by 
the  blessings  of  the  bishops." 

I  had  long  been  conversant  with  the  character  of 
these  productions.  Upon  the  day  of  their  publica 
tion  for  the  year  1828  I  bought  them  all,  and 
eagerly  applied  myself  to  discover  if  they  had  be 
come  more  adapted  to  the  improving  intelligence 
of  the  age.  First,  there  was  "Francis  Moore, 
Physician,"  who  had  commenced  his  career  of  im 
posture  in  1698.  He  then  dated  his  productions 
"from  the  sign  of  Lilly's  Head,  in  Crown  Court, 
near  Cupid's  Bridge,  in  Lambeth  parish  ; "  where 
he  advertised  for  sale  "  his  famous  familiar  family 


298  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE: 

cathartick  and  diuretick  purging  pills."  Here  the 
"  author  also  cures  all  sorts  of  agues  at  once ; "  and 
he  adds,  in  the  true  spirit  of  his  almanac,  "  this  dis 
temper  often  comes  by  supernatural  means,  which  is 
the  reason  it  will  not  yield  to  natural  means."  In 
1827,  when  the  Almanac  stamp  was  fifteen  pence, 
the  people  of  England,  calling  themselves  en 
lightened,  voluntarily  taxed  themselves  to  pay  an 
annual  sum  of  fifteen  thousand  pounds  to  the 
government,  for  permission  to  read  the  unchanged 
trash  which  first  obtained  currency  and  belief  when 
every  village  had  its  witch  and  every  churchyard 
its  ghost — when  agues  were  cured  by  charms,  and 
stolen  spoons  discovered  by  incantation.  Surely 
it  was  full  time  that  "Francis  Moore,  Physician," 
should  be  boldly  dealt  with.  No  common  assaults 
would  do.  He  would  survive  ridicule,  as  "  Part 
ridge's  Almanack  "  survived  the  wicked-  wit  of 
Swift,  although  Bickerstaff  had  killed  the  real  Alma 
nac  for  a  season,  and  frightened  the  seer  from  ever 
attempting  to  set  it  up  again.  The  Stationers'  Com 
pany  were  not  to  be  so  beaten  ;  and  they  had  the 
impudence  to  publish  a  "  Partridge's  Almanack " 
with  a  portrait  of  the  discomfited  astrologer,  which 
he  refused  to  acknowledge,  obstinately  persisting  not 
to  prophesy  in  the  flesh.  The  Company  evoked  the 
ghost  of  Partridge  to  do  the  needful  work,  and  the 
Almanac  for  1828  bore  this  motto, — "Etiam  mortuus 
loquitur."  Another  astrological  Almanac,  "  Season 
on  Seasons,"  still  existed  for  1828,  modelled  after 
the  fashion  of  the  palmy  days  of  Lilly  and  Gadbury. 
"  Moore  Improved,"  particularly  adapted  for  farmers 
and  country  gentlemen,  was  as  impudent  in  his 
astrology  as  his  great  ancestor.  All  the  Almanacs 


THE   SECOND   EPOCH.  299 

of  the  Stationers'  Company  had  their  prophecies 
that  on  a  particular  day  of  the  coming  year  it 
would  rain  or  shine — that  there  would  be  "good 
weather  for  the  hay  season  in  July,  and  in  August 
fine  harvest  weather  about  the  middle  of  the 
month."  In  Swift's  wonderful  piece  of  solemn 
humour,  the  account  of  Partridge's  death,  he  makes 
the  old  sinner  confess  his  "impositions  on  the 
people,"  and  say,  "We  have  a  common  form  for  all 
these  things  :  as  to  foretelling  the  weather,  we  never 
meddle  with  that,  but  leave  it  to  the  printer,  who 
takes  it  out  of  any  old  almanac  as  he  thinks  fit." 
This,  which  looks  like  a  mere  joke  in  1709,  was  easy 
of  proof  in  1827,  by  comparing  the  Almanac  of  the 
reign  of  Charles  II.  with  the  Almanac  of  George  II., 
and  both  with  the  Almanac  of  George  IV.  The  only 
variation  in  the  weather  prophecies  was  in  "  Poor 
Robin's  Almanac"  for  1828,  when  he  closed  his  hun 
dred  and  sixty-eighth  year,  a  drivelling  idiot,  still 
clinging  to  his  old  filth.  Could  any  reader  of  this 
day  imagine  that  in  the  year  when  the  London 
University  was  opened,  and  the  Society  for  the 
Diffusion  of  Useful  Knowledge  was  beginning  its 
work,  he  could  find  these  lines  at  the  head  of  the 
Calendar  for  January  ? 

"  If  it  don't  snow 
I  don't  care. 
But  if  it  freezes 
It  may  as  it  pleases 
And  then  I  sneezes, 
And  my  nose  blow." 

Armed  with  such  materials,  I  immediately  went  to 
work,  to  elaborate  the  scheme  of  a  rational  and  useful 


300  PASSAGES    OF   A  WORKING   LIFE: 

Almanac.  It  was  completed  in  a  few  days,  and  I 
took  it  to  my  steady  friend,  Matthew  Hill.  We  went 
together  to  Westminster,  to  consult  Mr.  Brougham. 
What  an  incalculable  source  of  satisfaction  to  a  pro 
jector,  even  of  so  apparently  humble  a  work  as  an 
Almanac,  to  find  a  man  of  ardent  and  capacious 
mind,  quick  to  comprehend,  frank  to  approve,  not 
deeming  a  difficult  undertaking  impossible,  ready  not 
only  for  counsel  but  for  action.  "  It  is  now  the  middle 
of  November,"  said  the  rapid  genius  of  unprocrasti- 
nating  labour — "  can  you  have  your  Almanac  out 
before  the  end  of  the  year  ? "  "  Yes  ;  with  a  little 
help  in  the  scientific  matters."  "  Then  tell  Mr.  Coates 
to  call  a  meeting  of  the  General  Committee  at  my 
chambers,  at  half-past  eight  to-morrow  morning. 
You  shall  have  help  enough.  There 's  Lubbock  and 
Wrottesley  and  Daniel  and  Beaufort — you  may  have 
your  choice  of  good  men  for  your  astronomy  and 
meteorology,  your  tides  and  your  eclipses.  Go  to 
work,  and  never  fear."  The  market-gardeners  of 
Brompton  were  scarcely  yet  astir  when  I  started  to 
walk  to  Lincoln's  Inn.  The  morning  was  dismal ; 
the  road  was  solitary.  When  I  reached  the  top  of 
Sloane  Street,  I  was  encountered  by  a  dense  fog — so 
heavy  that  I  remember  feeling  my  way  by  the  iron 
railings  in  front  of  Apsley  House,  and  so  groping 
through  Piccadilly.  I  began  to  despair  of  keeping 
the  appointment  which  I  deemed  so  important.  But 
I  persevered.  That  fog  seemed  to  me  as  a  type  of 
the  difficulties  that  I  might  have  to  encounter  in 
this  novel  attempt,  and  in  the  realization  of  other 
projects  floating  in  my  mind.  In  Mr.  Brougham's 
chambers  there  was  assembled  a  quorum  of  the  Com 
mittee.  The  energy  of  the  Chairman  swept  away 


THE   SECOND   EPOCH.  301 

every  doubt.  The  work  was  committed  to  my  charge. 
The  aid  which  had  been  suggested  to  me  was  freely 
given.  I  remembered  the  sarcastic  exclamation  of 
Erskine,  when  he  was  contending  against  the  re- 
establishment  of  the  usurped  monopoly  of  the  Uni 
versities — "  Is  it  imagined  that  our  Almanacs  are  to 
come  to  us,  in  future,  in  the  classical  arrangement  of 
Oxford, — fraught  with  the  mathematics  and  astro 
nomy  of  Cambridge?"  It  might  be  so  with  one 
Almanac  not  "  printed  with  the  correct  type  of  the 
Stationers'  Company."  Our  supporters  would  little 
care  for  the  pretence,  still  kept  up,  that  the  respon 
sibility  of  that  Company  prevented  the  inconveniences 
that  might  arise  to  the  public  from  mistakes  in  the 
matters  that  Almanacs  contained.  A  constant  friend 
through  many  years,  the  hydrographer  of  the  Admi 
ralty,  Captain  Beaufort,  found  a  gentleman  in  his 
office  who  quickly  prepared  the  various  astronomical 
tables.  There  were  senior  wranglers,  "  fraught  with 
the  mathematics  and  astronomy  of  Cambridge,"  whose 
names  had  been  rapidly  mentioned  to  me  by  Mr. 
Brougham,  ready  to  look  over  the  proofs.  I  arranged 
the  business  terms  with  the  Finance  Committee  of 
the  Society,  upon  the  principle  of  paying  a  rent  upon 
the  numbers  sold.  "  The  British  Almanac"  was 
published  before  the  1st  of  January.  Late  as  it  was 
in  the  field,  high  as  was  its  unavoidable  price — half- 
a-crown,  to  cover  the  heavy  stamp  duty,  and  allow  a 
profit  to  the  retailers — ten  thousand  were  sold  in  a 
week.  I  had  thus  encouragement  to  propose  a  col 
lateral  scheme  to  the  Society.  In  their  Annual 
Report  issued  at  the  beginning  of  February,  was  this 
announcement : — "  A  Companion  to  the  Almanac  is 
in  the  press,  which  will  treat  of  many  important 


302  PASSAGES    OF    A   WORKING   LIFE  I 

branches  of  knowledge."  The  pair  have  travelled  on 
together  for  thirty-seven  years  under  my  direction, 
through  many  changes  of  times  and  men — through 
many  a  social  revolution,  bloodless  and  beneficent — 
through  a  wonderful  era  of  progress  in  commerce,  in 
literature,  in  science,  in  the  arts — in  the  manifesta 
tions  of  the  approach  of  all  ranks  to  that  union  of 
interests  and  feelings  which  is  the  most  solid  founda 
tion  of  public  happiness,  and  the  best  defence  against 
assaults  from  without.  The  general  features  of  these 
publications  have  undergone  very  little  change  during 
this  long  period.  The  two  objects  which  have  been 
always  kept  in  view  in  the  preparation  of  the  "  Com 
panion"  were  set  forth  in  1828  :— "  1st.  That  the 
subjects  selected  shall  be  generally  useful,  either  for 
present  information  or  future  reference.  2ndly.  That 
the  knowledge  conveyed  shall  be  given  in  the  most 
condensed  and  explicit  manner,  so  as  to  be  valuable 
to  every  class  of  readers." 


CHAPTEK    XIV. 


my  return  to  London  at  the  end  of  June, 
1828,  after  a  journey  through  "  the  provin 
ces  "  to  aid  in  furthering  the  object  of  our 
association,  the  meetings  of  the  Useful 
Knowledge  Society  were  approaching  their  termina 
tion  for  the  season.  Parliament  was  prorogued.  The 
members  of  our  committee  had  mostly  left  town  ;  law 
yers  were  on  circuit ;  members  of  Parliament  were  look 
ing  after  their  local  interests.  '  But  I  had  to  keep  up  a 
tolerably  active  correspondence  with  some  who  took  an 
especial  interest  in  the  works  upon  which  I  was  occupied 
— with  none  more  unremittingly  than  Mr.  Brougham. 
Whether  contending  in  friendly  rivalry  for  the 
leadership  of  the  Northern  Circuit  with  Mr.  Pollock, 
or  enjoying  the  delicious  quiet  of  his  family  home  in 
Westmoreland,  his  mind  was  ever  occupied  with 
thoughts  of  the  society  which  he  had  founded,  and 
which  was  daily  growing  more  important.  Mr.  Hill 
writes  to  me  from  Ambleside  on  the  30th  of  August : 
— "  I  came  here  with  Mr.  Brougham,  from  Lancaster, 
to-day.  Scenery  glorious  of  course.  But  I  fear  we 
talked  more  about  diffusion  of  knowledge  than  any 
thing  else.  Mr.  B.  is  delighted  with  all  you  have 
done."  It  was  very  pleasant  to  know  that  my 
preparations  for  the  "  Library  of  Entertaining  Know 
ledge  "  were  approved.  I  was  chiefly  engaged  in 
writing  "  The  Menageries,"  which  was  a  sufficient 
task  for  my  faculties ;  for  I  had  to  learn  a  good  deal 


304  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE: 

of  the  subjects  upon  which  I  was  to  write.  But 
Mr.  Brougham,  estimating  the  powers  of  other  men 
by  his  own,  would  have  had  me  engage  in  some 
by-work  for  both  of  the  series — the  Useful  and  the 
Entertaining.  I  had  intimated  a  desire  to  write  a 
Life  of  Alfred.  With  his  characteristic  readiness, 
while  expressing  his  gratification,  he  suggests  to 
me  not  to  lose  sight  of  one  interesting  part  of  the 
subject—"  the  ancient  form  of  our  government — there 
are  many  errors  afloat  in  this  matter."  He  then 
states  that  Mr.  Allen,  of  Holland  House,  has,  more 
than  all  lawyers  and  historians,  studied  it  deeply, 
and  he  sends  me  a  list  of  Mr.  Allen's  articles  in  the 
"  Edinburgh  Review,"  on  topics  connected  with  this 
question.  I  had  also  given  to  Mr.  Brougham  the 
introductory  portion  of  a  life  of  Las  Casas — a 
subject  which  had  deeply  interested  me,  as  a  very 
young  man,  when  I  had  read  in  Croft's  singular 
volume,  "  Love  and  Madness,"  that,  "  all  things  con 
sidered,  Bartholomew  Las  Casas  was  perhaps  the 
greatest  man  that  ever  existed."  Mr.  Brougham 
writes — "  I  have  lost  sight  of  Las  Casas.  How  near 
making  a  volume  is  it  for  the  L.  E.  K.  ?  If  not  for 
that,  there  must  be  at  least  enough  for  a  treatise  in 
the  L.  TJ.  K."  How  could  I  let  th.e  grass  grow  under 
my  feet  with  such  an  inciter  to  activity  ? 

In  looking  back  at  some  correspondence  of  Sep 
tember,  1828,  I  am  >  enabled  to  form  an  accurate 
conception  of  the  technical  difficulties  of  producing 
a  cheap  book  with  excellent  wood-cuts.  I  had 
arranged  to  have  my  "  Menageries  "  illustrated  with 
representations  of  animals  drawn  from  the  life.  I 
was  fortunate  in  securing  the  assistance  of  several 
rising  young  men,  who  did  not  disdain  what  some 


THE   SECOND   EPOCH.  305 

painters  might  have  deemed  ignoble  employment. 
Two  of  these  are  now  Royal  Academicians.  There 
were  not  many  wood-engravers  then  in  London  ;  and 
this  art  was  almost  invariably  applied  to  the  pro 
duction  of  expensive  books,  printed  in  the  finest 
style.  The  legitimate  purpose  of  wood-engraving 
was  not  then  attained.  It  is  essentially  that  branch 
of  the  art  of  design  which  is  associated  with  cheap 
and  rapid  printing.  In  the  costly  books  of  the  period 
a  single  woodcut  introduced  into  a  sheet  to  be 
worked  off  with  the  types,  enhanced  the  cost  of 
manual  labour  in  a  proportion  which  would  now 
seem  incredible.  In  engraving  the  wood-cuts  for  the 
"Menageries,"  some  attention  of  the  artist  was 
necessary  to  give  his  shadows  the  requisite  force, 
and  his  lights  the  desired  clearness,  so  as  to  meet 
the  uniform  application  of  the  ink,  and  the  cylin 
drical  pressure,  in  the  printing-machine  process. 
It  was  long  before  this  excellence  could  be  practi 
cally  attained.  Without  this  explanation  it  would 
appear  ludicrous  that  Mr.  Hill  should  write  to  me 
from  Mr.  Brougham's  house, — "  Everybody  here  is 
in  raptures  with  the  proofs  of  the  wood-cuts  ;  but 
we  have  misgivings  about  the  machine."  A  sheet 
of  my  book  was  to  be  set  up  with  the  engravings 
in  their  due  place,  and  a  hundred  or  two  were  to 
be  printed  off  by  the  rapid  operation.  "  Mr.  Loch 
is  here,"  writes  Mr.  Hill.  "  We  have  held  a  com 
mittee.  He  will  be  in  London  in  a  fortnight,  quite 
at  leisure,  and  anxious  to  attend  to  our  affairs.  He 
has  promised  to  assist  at  Clowes's.  I  hope  you  will 
succeed  in  assembling  everybody."  "Everybody" 
not  only  meant  the  patentee  of  the  machine,  the 
wood-engraver,  the  stationer,  the  ink-maker,  and 


306  PASSAGES   OF   A  WORKING   LIFE  : 

the  ingenious  overseer  of  the  printing  office,  but  as 
many  of  the  committee  as  I  could  get  together. 
Imagine  a  learned  society  thus  employed  !  Imagine 
a  hard-worked  editor  thus  exhorted  to  interference 
with  a  printer's  proper  duty  !  Yet  such  was  a 
part  of  my  editorial  duty  at  a  time  when  the  great 
revolution  in  the  production  of  books  to  be  ac 
complished  by  the  printing  machine,  was  almost 
as  imperfectly  realised  as  when  Caxton  first  as 
tonished  England  by  the  miracles  of  the  printing 
press.  We  succeeded  in  partially  overcoming  -the 
difficulties  of  making  an  illustrated  volume  not 
despicable  as  a  work  of  art,  and  yet  cheap — some 
thing  very  different  from  the  lesson  books  with 
blotches  called  pictures,  that  puzzled  the  school-boy 
mind  half  a  century  ago,  to  distinguish  what  some 
daub  was  meant  to  delineate ;  "  It  is  backed  like  a 
weasel's,"  says  Brown — "or,  like  a  whale,"  says 
Jones — "  Very  like  a  whale,"  concludes  Robinson. 

At  this  time  my  duties  in  connection  with  the 
"  Library  of  Entertaining  Knowledge  "  were  simply 
those  of  author  and  editor.  I  had  retained  a  pro 
prietary  interest  in  the  Almanac  and  Companion, 
although  it  was  published  for  two  years  by  Messrs. 
Baldwin.  But  the  new  series  was  a  large  under 
taking,  from  the  risk  of  which  I  shrank.  Again, 
Mr.  Murray,  as  a  publisher,  was  to  have  been  asso 
ciated  with  my  labours.  In  November,  1828,  Mr. 
Tooke,  the  treasurer  of  the  society,  informed  me 
that  Mr.  Murray  desired  that  I  should  send  him 
"the  form  of  a  reduced  advertisement,  descriptive 
only  of  the  intended  volume."  The  "Menageries" 
was  then  sufficiently  advanced  for  me  to  comply. 
Before  the  volume  was  ready  for  publication  the 


THE   SECOND   EPOCH.  307 

proprietor  of  the  "Quarterly  Keview"  took  some 
alarm.  The  Society  and  he  parted  company,  but 
upon  very  friendly  terms.  I  was  urged  to  take  "  at 
the  flood  "  this  opportunity  of  the  "  tide  in  the  affairs 
of  man."  I  found  a  capitalist  ready  to  bear  his  part 
in  my  new  venture.  I  made  terms  with  the  Society, 
which  secured  to  them  a  rent  upon  the  copies  sold 
of  the  "  Library  of  Entertaining  Knowledge."  I  was 
again  a  publisher  in  Pall  Mall  East,  before  Mid 
summer,  1829,  when  the  first  volume  of  the  "Me 
nageries  "  was  published.  At  the  same  period  Mr. 
Murray  issued  the  first  volume  of  his  "  Family 
Library." 

The  sub-committees  of  the  Society  are  once 
more  in  active  work  when  the  long  vacation  had 
come  to  an  end.  The  monthly  meetings  now  regu 
larly  take  place.  At  these  periodical  gatherings 
there  is  a  dinner  at  five  o'clock — a  plain  English 
dinner,  at  a  moderate  fixed  charge,  to  which 
each  present  contributes.  There  is  a  subscription 
for  wine.  On  these  occasions  the  organisation 
of  the  Society  is  fully  developed.  The  sub 
committees  report  their  proceedings  ;  the  general 
committee  confirm  them.  Questions  are  asked ; 
suggestions  are  made.  The  chairman  conducts  the 
proceedings  with  the  least  possible  parade  of  words. 
The  members  express  their  opinions  in  the  same 
quiet  conversational  tone.  I  never  heard  but  one 
oration  in  that  assembly  of  which  so  many  eloquent 
statesmen  and  lawyers  formed  a  part.  That  display 
came  from  a  president  of  the  Royal  Academy,  whose 
rhetoric  is  as  forgotten  a  thing  as  his  "Rhymes 
on  Art."  Let  me  look  back  upon  those  pleasant 
meetings,  at  which  I  had  generally  the  happiness  to 


308  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE! 

be  present  during  more  than  fifteen  years.  Let  me, 
without  confining  myself  to  a  particular  session 
of  my  early  years  in  connection  with  the  Society, 
look  round  that  social  table,  to  call  up  the  shadows 
of  some  whose  reputations  only  survive,  and  to 
renew,  as  it  were,  the  friendships  which  I  have  still 
the  happiness  of  possessing. 

The  dinner  is  over  in  an  hour.  There  has  been 
pleasant  gossip  and  occasional  fun.  A  few  cordial 
greetings  have  passed  in  the  old  form  of  the  wine- 
pledge,  which  we  of  a  past  generation  regret  to 
find  almost  obsolete.  The  cloth  is  cleared.  Mr. 
Coates,  the  secretary,  moves  to  the  side  of  the  chair 
man,  and  there  are  then  two  hours  of  solid  business. 
Subjects  of  science,  of  art,  of  literature,  having  to  be 
discussed,  the  talk  is  sure  to  be  improving,  and  occa 
sionally  amusing.  The  chair  is  generally  filled  by  Mr. 
Brougham,  and,  in  his  rare  absence,  more  frequently 
by  the  treasurer,  Mr.  William  Tooke,  than  by  Lord 
John  Russell,  the  vice-chairman.  Other  members, 
however,  are  occasionally  called  to  take  the  chair. 
Mr.  Tooke  was  one  of  the  founders  of  the  Society, 
and  was  for  some  years  an  active  member.  He  was 
somewhat  ambitious  of  literary  distinction,  priding 
himself  upon  being  one  of  "  the  family  of  Tooke," 
his  father  having  been  known  as  the  author  of 
some  valuable  works  on  Russia  ;  his  brother  Thomas 
being  the  eminent  political  economist,  the  historian 
of  "  Prices."  Our  treasurer  had  somewhat  harsh 
treatment  from  the  critics  as  the  biographer  of 
Churchill.  I  always  regarded  him  as  a  kind-hearted 
man  of  moderate  abilities — somewhat  fussy,  not 
altogether  disinclined  to  a  job,  and  always  disposed 
to  be  patronizing. 


THE   SECOND   EPOCH.  309 

Where  shall  I  begin  with  those  who  did  not  fill  the 
offices  of  the  Society  amongst  the  sixty  members  of 
its  committee  ?  I  cannot  classify  them  according  to 
their  professional  pursuits ;  for  in  this  gathering, 
statesmen,  lawyers,  physicians,  professors,  not  only 
clubbed  their  technical  knowledge,  but  their  various 
acquirements  in  science,  in  history,  in  art,  in  ancient 
scholarship,  in  modern  literature.  I  must  take 
the  individuals  somewhat  at  random,  as  they  crowd 
upon  my  memory  in  connection  with  my  own 
experience. 

James  Mill.  I  see  the  historian  of  British  India, 
sitting  near  Mr.  Brougham,  listening  to  his  opinions 
with  marked  attention.  It  always  appeared  to  me 

a  signal  tribute  to  the  intellectual  eminence  of  the 
o 

great  orator,  that  the  writer  who,  of  all  others,  aimed 
most  at  terseness  and  perspicuity,  should  exhibit 
such  deference  to  one  whose  reputation  was  built 
upon  broader  foundations  than  logical  profundity 
or  metaphysical  subtlety.  Yet  so  it  was.  Their 
minds  were  not  certainly  cast  in  the  same  mould  ; 
yet  there  must  have  been  deep  sympathies  between 
them — as  is  perhaps  often  the  case  when  two  men  of 
apparently  opposite  temperaments,  and  pursuing 
very  different  paths  to  eminence,  are  brought  into 
friendly  contact  for  a  common  object.  Mr.  Mill  was 
too  soon  removed  from  us.  To  me  he  rendered 
valuable  aid  in  the  early  numbers  of  the  "Com 
panion  to  the  Almanac." 

Henry  Hallam  was  one  of  the  original  promoters 
of  the  Society,  of  which,  during  many  years,  he  was 
an  active  member.  That  the  historian  of  the 
"  Middle  Ages,"  was  an  authority  in  the  committee 
cannot  be  doubted.  He  was  a  sedulous  attendant 


310  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE! 

upon  sub-committees.  He  read  proofs  diligently. 
In  his  general  manner  rather  cold  and  dry,  he  would 
occasionally  deliver  an  energetic  opinion,  pregnant 
with  good  sense  and  refined  taste.  I  used  at  first  to 
feel  some  shrinking  from  his  critical  faculty,  but  no 
one  could  be  more  tolerant  or  encouraging  ;  and  if  he 
made  objections  it  was  generally  without  harshness. 
He  was  in  the  full  possession  of  his  high  faculties 
when  I  first  had  the  opportunity  of  benefiting,  in  a 
small  degree,  by  the  quiet  exhibition  of  his  varied 
acquirements.  The  great  sorrow  of  his  life  had  not 
then  chilled  his  energy.  He  lived  to  recover,  out 
wardly,  the  loss  which  gave  occasion  to  the  noblest 
elegiac  poetry  in  our  language. 

I  turn  to  a  man  eminent  in  a  pursuit  not  less 
useful  than  that  of  the  historian — to  Francis 
Beaufort,  the  hydrographer  to  the  Admiralty,  under 
whose  especial  superintendence  the  Atlas  of  the 
Society  attained  a  perfection  never  before  realised  in 
this  country.  His  design  of  producing  the  most 
trustworthy  maps  at  the  cheapest  rate,  would  have 
conferred  an  honourable  distinction  upon  this 
Association,  if  it  had  accomplished  nothing  else.  But 
Captain  Beaufort  (afterwards  Admiral  Sir  Francis) 
did  not  confine  himself  to  the  duties  of  this  great 
undertaking.  I  could  always  rely  upon  his  sound 
judgment  in  discussing  any  project  that  I  offered, 
or  in  the  correction  of  proofs.  No  member  of  the 
committee  wrote  purer  English.  Of  his  unremitting 
kindness  I  had  ample  experience.  The  frankness, 
almost  bluntness,  of  the  sailor  was  never  offensive, 
for  it  had  the  true  ring  of  the  sterling  metal  of  an 
honest  mind,  and  the  unvarnished  courtesy  of  a  gen 
tleman.  Shall  I  place  by  the  side  of  this  worthy  plain 


THE   SECOND   EPOCH.  311 

dealer  and  plain  speaker  one  of  whom  it  has  been 
said  he  often  tried  to  make  himself  disagreeable,  but 
never  succeeded  ?  There  was  no  man  with  whom  I  less 
perfectly  sympathized  when  I  first  joined  the  Society 
than  Henry  Bellenden  Ker  ;  gradually  I  learnt  to 
understand  him.  I  have  the  happiness  still  to  enjoy 
an  intimacy  that  has  endured  since  those  early  days 
of  our  intercourse — proof  against  banter  on  one  side, 
and  pettishness  on  the  other.  He  was  the  most 
fertile  in  projects  of  any  member  of  the  committee. 
Apart  from  the  Society,  he  had  ever  some  new  scheme 
to  suggest  to  me  as  a  publishing  enterprise.  His 
plans  were  not  always  practicable  ;  but  they  always 
indicated  the  fertility  of  his  mind,  and  the  refine 
ment  of  his  taste.  He  did  me  incalculable  good  in 
his  rough-riding  when  I  was  learning  my  paces  in 
this  intellectual  manage.  It  was  like  the  discipline 
which  a  young  barrister  receives  on  his  first  circuit. 
Not  to  wince  under  a  joke ;  to  see  the  kind  heart 
and  the  earnest  good  will,  ill-concealed  by  the  levity 
of  tongue  ;  to  find  indifference  growing  into  cordiality, 
and  then  ripening  into  friendship — this  was  my 
experience  of  a  man  whose  ready  talent,  whose  social 
aptitude,  rarely  failed  to  secure  the  friendship  of  the 
young  and  of  the  aged — one  who  was  a  warm 
politician  without  the  bitterness  of  a  partisan  ;  whose 
companionable  qualities  gave  pleasure  to  the  de 
clining  vigour  of  Lyndhurst,  and  who  continues,  as 
he  had  begun,  to  be  the  cherished  friend  of 
Brougham. 

In  the  present  instance,  as  in  others  that  will  con 
stantly  occur,  I  find  it  exceedingly  difficult  to  speak 
with  the  same  freedom  of  the  living  as  of  the  dead. 
Yet,  looking  back  for  more  than  a  generation  upon 
14 


312  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE  I 

the  eminent  persons  with  whom  I  had  become 
acquainted,  they  all  assume  with  me  an  aspect 
approaching  to  the  historical.  I  run  over  the  list  of 
the  committee  prefixed  to  the  "British  Almanac "  for 
1830.  Of  forty-five  members,  whose  essential 
services  in  the  diffusion  of  knowledge  live  in  my 
remembrance,  twenty-five  are  gone  where  "  all 
hidden  things  shall  be  made  manifest."  Yet  to  speak 
impartially,  I  must  not  pass  over  those  who  remain 
with  us,  believing  that  the  "  nil  nisi  verum  "  is  a 
better  principle  to  act  upon  either  for  the  living  or 
the  dead  than  the  "  nil  nisi  bonum" 

I  have  already,  several  times,  mentioned  Matthew 
Davenport  Hill  as  a  member  of  the  committee  ;  and 
it  is  therefore  unnecessary  that  I  should  here  dwell 
upon  the  energy  of  his  character  as  a  diffuser  of 
knowledge.  He  was  one  of  the  earliest  members  of 
the  Society.  His  brother  Rowland  was  elected  when 
it  was  fully  in  action.  Of  modest  demeanour; 
courteous  but  independent ;  expressing  his  opinions 
with  a  prudent  brevity, — few  could  have  given  him 
credit  for  that  unwearied  industry  in  following  out 
all  the  ramifications  of  a  complicated  question  ;  for 
that  power  of  marshalling  all  the  possible  details  of  a 
great  theory  which  in  practice  resolved  itself  into  the 
most  complete  organisation.  The  inventor  of  the 
Penny  Postage  made  no  eager  rush  to  the  display  of 
an  imperfect  project.  He  felt  every  step  of  his  way, 
and  when  he  had  ceased  to  have  any  doubt  of  the 
certainty  of  his  convictions,  he  put  them  forth  with 
the  confidence  of  genius,  and  was  ready  to  do  battle 
for  them  with  the  courage  which  is  the  best  pledge 
of  victory.  The  young  schoolmaster  of  Hazelwood 
became  one  of  the  greatest  of  public  benefactors. 


THE    SECOND   EPOCH.  313 

Amongst  the  founders  of  the  society,  Dr.  Roget 
was,  from  his  accepted  high  reputation,  the  most 
eminent  of  its  men  of  science.  He  wrote  its  treatises 
on  Electricity  and  on  Magnetism.  He  was  a  diligent 
attendant  on  its  committees  ;  a  vigilant  corrector  of 
its  proofs.  Of  most  winning  manners,  he  was  as 
beloved  as  he  was  respected.  I  met  him  in  1863,  at 
an  evening  party,  and  had  much  talk  with  him  about 
our  old  intercourse.  Full  of  animation, — with 
undimned  intelligence — his  age  was  "  as  a  lusty 
winter,  frosty  but  kindly."  In  his  beaming  face 
there  could  scarcely  be  found  the  traces  of  that  hard 
work — made  up  of  professional  practice,  of  scientific 
writing,  of  secretaryship  of  the  Royal  Society,  of 
lecturer  at  the  Royal  Institution, — which  he  had 
gone  through  since  he  graduated  in  medicine  at 
Edinburgh  in  1798.  Upon  all  questions  of  Physi 
ology,  Peter  Mark  Roget  and  Charles  Bell  are  the 
great  authorities  in  the  Useful  Knowledge  Society. 
No  higher  service  could  have  been  rendered  to  the 
association  in  its  early  stages  than  Mr.  Bell's  con 
tribution  to  its  treatises.  His  "  Animal  Mechanics  " 
is  a  model  of  popular  writing  upon  subjects  which 
demand  high  scientific  knowledge.  This  charming 
production  was  published  in  1828.  At  that  time 
there  was  another  member  of  the  medical  profession 
— one,  however,  unconnected  with  our  Society — who 
also  contributed  most  effectually  to  disperse  the 
belief  that  science  could  only  be  taught  in  the  use  of 
technical  language  ; — that  the  uninitiated  in  the 
technicalities  had  better  not  attempt  to  comprehend 
the  mysteries  of  that  temple  where  there  was  scant 
room  for  the  worship  of  the  multitude.  Dr.  Neil 
Arnott,  in  1827,  published  the  first  portion  of  his 


314  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE  : 

"  Elements  of  Physics ;  or  Natural  Philosophy, 
General  and  Medical,  explained  in  plain  or  non 
technical  language."  Never  was  book  more  popular; 
never  was  the  completion  of  any  undertaking  more 
anxiously  looked  for.  The  first  volume  of  the  "  Sixth 
and  Completed  Edition"  reaches  me  while  I  write  this 
chapter.  It  is  a  presentation  copy  from  one  who  for 
five-and-thirty  years  has  won  the  love  and  gratitude 
of  me  and  mine,  as  the  wise  physician  and  the  hearty 
friend.  I  could  not  forego  this  digression  from  the 
matters  more  immediately  before  me. 

The  Useful  Knowledge  committees,  as  I  have 
looked  upon  these  monthly  assemblages,  present  the 
aspect  of  something  higher  than  toleration — a 
cordial  union  of  men  of  very  different  persuasions  in 
religion,  who  have  met  upon  a  common  platform  for 
the  advancement  of  knowledge,  to  which  religion  can 
never  be  opposed.  Let  me  group  three  represen 
tatives  of  opinions  that  appear  as  far  removed  as 
possible  from  amalgamation.  Dr.  Maltby,  a  great 
classical  scholar,  the  preacher  at  Lincoln's  Inn,  the 
future  bishop,  first  of  Chichester,  and  then  of 
Durham,  is  a  dignified  representative  of  the  Church 
of  England.  He  is  zealous  for  the  welfare  of  the 
Useful  Knowledge  Society,  of  which  he  was  one  of 
the  earliest  members.  He  will  do  its  work  assi 
duously  and  carefully.  He  will  not  insist  upon 
religious  topics  being  thrust  in  amongst  secular.  He 
will  not  stickle  for  the  due  honour  of  the  Established 
Church.  How  can  he  do  either?  By  his  side,  it 
may  be,  sits  Mr.  Isaac  Lyon  Goldsmid,  the  wealthy 
Jew,  whose  ambition,  as  that  of  the  Rothschilds  and 
of  other  men  of  large  property  and  unimpeachable 
loyalty,  is  to  have  a  voice  in  the  British  Parliament. 


THE   SECOND   EPOCH.  315 

Mr.  Goldsmid  is  a  man  of  something  more  than 
business  talent ;  good  tempered ;  not  obtruding  the 
pride  of  riches  ;  hospitable.  Mr.  William  Allen,  the 
Quaker,  may  form  the  third  in  this  group.  I  have 
often  called  on  him  at  his  old  place  of  business  in 
Plough  Court,  where,  a  practical  chemist,  he  had 
been  a  thriving  tradesman,  and  at  the  same  time  a 
Fellow  of  the  Royal  Society  and  a  valuable  con 
tributor  to  its  transactions.  He  well  merited  the 
honour  of  his  countrymen  for  other  qualities  than  his 
scientific  acquirements.  He  was  a  liberal  promoter 
of  every  public  scheme  of  benevolence.  He  estab 
lished  upon  his  estate  at  Lindfield,  in  Sussex,  after 
he  withdrew  from  the  cares  of  a  commercial  life, 
schools  for  boys,  girls,  and  infants, — real  schools  of 
industry,  where  agriculture  was  taught,  as  well  as 
many  useful  arts.  Whilst  the  children  had  every 
opportunity  for  acquiring  health  in  recreation,  and 
improvement  in  a  good  library,  he  built  cottages  for 
the  labourers  of  his  village,  such  as  ought  to  have 
shamed  many  a  landowner  out  of  his  neglect.  The 
memory  of  this  good  man  is  to  me  fresh  and  fragrant. 
There  was  perhaps  no  society  in  England,  with 
the  exception  of  the  Royal  Society,  which  could 
present  such  a  knot  of  young  men  of  high  promise 
as  were  assembled  at  our  committees  in  the 
earliest  stages  of  their  organisation.  Mr.  John 
William  Lubbock,  the  only  child  of  the  eminent  city 
banker,  assiduously  followed  his  father's  calling, 
whilst  he  was  attaining  the  highest  reputation  as  a 
mathematician.  In  1825  he  had  graduated  as  M.A. 
at  Cambridge.  In  1828  he  was  rendering  me  the 
most  important  assistance  in  the  preparation  of  the 
"  British  Almanac."  For  several  years  he  worked 


316  PASSAGES   OF  A  WORKING  LIFE  : 

with  the  heartiest  zeal  at  this  apparently  humble 
contribution  to  the  objects  of  the  Society.  But  the 
occupation  was  not  a  humble  one,  for  he  was  prac 
tically  developing  his  investigations  upon  the  Tides, 
which  subject  formed  several  papers  in  the  Philo 
sophical  Transactions.  Devoting  himself  with  the 
same  readiness  to  superintend  the  astronomical 
portion  of  the  British  Almanac,  I  was  also  brought 
into  intercourse  with  Mr.  John  Wrottesley,  after 
wards  Lord  Wrottesley,  and  President  of  the  Royal 
Society.  He  was  a  member  of  the  bar.  Mr. 
Benjamin  Malkin — afterwards  Sir  Benjamin,  when 
he  accepted  a  high  judicial  appointment  in  India, 
and  there  too  soon  closed  his  valuable  life — devoted 
his  great  talents  and  acquirements  with  indefatigable 
industry  to  the  business  of  our  committee.  His 
forte  was  mathematics.  His  brother  Arthur  was 
elected  to  the  committee  a  few  years  after,  and  in 
several  departments  rendered  essential  service  as 
a  writer  and  editor.  Mr.  T.  F.  Ellis,  the  friend 
and  executor  of  Macaulay,  had  many  opportu 
nities,  in  the  revision  of  the  Society's  works,  to 
exercise  his  acute  critical  faculty.  Mr.  Lefevre  (now 
Sir  John)  was  also  one  of  the  distinguished  Cam 
bridge  graduates  who  gave  to  the  Useful  Knowledge 
Society  the  prestige  of  their  academical  honours. 

The  University  of  London  (as  the  College  was  then 
called)  numbered  amongst  its  Professors  some  of  the 
ablest  members  of  our  committee.  Amongst  the  first 
of  those  who  joined  the  Society  was  Mr.  George  Long. 
In  subsequent  "  Passages,"  I  shall  have  so  frequently 
to  mention  his  name,  as  one  of  the  most  important 
of  my  associates,  that  it  will  be  scarcely  necessary  for 
me  here  to  do  more  than  allude  to  his  unequalled 


THE   SECOND  EPOCH.  317 

industry,  his  rich  scholarship,  his  sound  judgment, 
which  very  soon  gave  him  his  right  position  amongst 
the  eminent  persons  by  whom  he  was  surrounded. 
Mr.  De  Morgan  became  a  member  somewhat  later.  I 
first  saw  him  in  1830.  The  occasion  will  arise  for 
mentioning  the  eminent  services  he  rendered  to  the 
works  in  which  I  have  been  engaged.  Mr.  Key,  and 
Mr.  Maiden,  about  the  same  period  commenced  their 
distinguished  career  as  teachers  of  youth,  and  very 
soon  also  devoted  their  unprofessional  services  to  the 
general  diffusion  of  knowledge. 

Mr.  Leonard  Horner  was  the  Warden  of  the 
London  University,  when  he  became  a  member  of 
the  Useful  Knowledge  committee.  In  their  early 
stages  the  new  preparatory  institution  "  for  affording 
to  young  men  adequate  opportunities  for  obtaining 
literary  and  scientific  education  at  a  moderate  ex 
pense  ;"  and  the  new  society  for  "  imparting  useful 
information  to  all  classes  of  the  community,"  were 
considered  by  many  to  be  engaged  in  a  co-partner 
ship  for  the  political  and  theological  corruption  of 
youths  and  adults.  In  some  arrangements  pre 
scribed  by  a  rigid  economy  in  the  finances  of  each, 
they  did  appear  to  cany  on  their  operations  in  con 
cert.  Thus,  when  I  first  attended  in  Percy  Street 
to  read  manuscripts  and  proofs,  I  had  to  thread  my 
way  up  a  staircase,  on  the  walls  of  which  Dr. 
Lardner  was  hanging  models  for  the  illustration  of 
his  approaching  Lectures  on  Mechanics.  As  a  ne 
cessary  consequence,  the  council  of  the  University, 
and  the  committee  of  the  Society,  had  several 
members  in  common.  Mr.  Horner  was  not  only 
surrounded  with  the  reflection  of  his  eminent  bro 
ther's  fame,  but  had.  that  brother's  testimony,  in 


318  PASSAGES  OF   A  WORKING   LIFE: 

his  published  letters,  to  the  interest  which  young 
Leonard,  as  early  as  1811,  took  in  the  education  of 
the  people.  How  well  he  was  qualified  for  popular 
instruction  was  shown  by  an  admirable  series  of 
articles  on  "  The  Mineral  Kingdom  "  which  he  con 
tributed  to  the  "  Penny  Magazine."  How  ardently 
and  unremittingly  he  strove  to  elevate  the  condition, 
and  provide  for  the  health  of  the  Working  Classes, 
has  been  manifested  by  his  labours  as  a  Factory 
Commissioner. 

I  am  still  hovering  round  the  remembrance  of  the 
earlier  members  of  the  Society,  whose  literary  or 
scientific  qualifications  gave  the  assurance  that  no 
publication  would  go  forth,  deformed  by  the  in 
accuracies  of  superficial  information.  In  a  volume 
written  by  me  ten  years  ago,  I  have  expressed 
my  opinion  upon  the  system  pursued  in  our  com 
mittees  : — "  From  the  time  when  the  Society  com 
menced  a  real  '  superintendence '  of  works  for  the 
people — when  it  assisted,  by  diligent  revision  and 
friendly  inquiry,  the  services  of  its  editors — the 
old  vague  generalities  of  popular  knowledge  were 
exploded ;  and  the  scissors-and-paste  school  of 
authorship  had  to  seek  for  other  occupations  than 
Paternoster  Row  could  once  furnish.  Accuracy  was 
forced  upon  elementary  books  as  the  rule  and  not 
the  exception.  Books  professedly  '  entertaining ' 
were  to  be  founded  upon  exact  information,  and 
their  authorities  invariably  indicated.  No  doubt 
this  superintendence  in  some  degree  interfered  with 
the  free  course  of  original  composition,  and  imparted 
somewhat  of  the  utilitarian  character  to  everything 
produced.  But  it  was  the  only  course  by  which  a 
new  aspect  could  be  given  to  cheap  literature,  by 


THE   SECOND   EPOCH.  319 

showing  that  the  great  principles  of  excellence  were 
common  to  all  books,  whether  for  the  learned  or 
the  uninformed."*  To  accomplish  such  real  super 
intendence  there  were  the  services  at  hand,  in  the 
department  that  may  be  broadly  characterised  as 
Natural  History,  of  Mr.  Daniel,  in  Meteorology ; 
of  Mr.  De  La  Beche,  in  Geology  ;  of  Mr.  Vigors, 
in  Zoology ;  and  of  Dr.  Anthony  Todd  Thomson,  in 
Botany  and  Vegetable  Physiology.  With  each  of 
these  gentlemen  I  was,  in  various  labours,  brought 
into  pleasant  and  profitable  intercourse.  I  was  in 
more  direct  and  constant  intimacy  with  Mr.  William 
Coulson,  the  translator  of  Blumenbach's  "  Com 
parative  Anatomy."  In  the  composition  of  my 
little  book  on  "  Menageries,"  I  could  always  apply, 
in  cases  of  doubt,  to  his  technical  information,  and 
to  the  wide  range  of  the  scientific  knowledge  of 
Mr.  Vigors.  The  aid  which  Dr.  Conolly  rendered  to 
the  diffusion  of  knowledge  was  not  special  or  pro 
fessional.  In  those  departments  of  what  we  now 
call  "  social  science,"  which  include  the  public  health 
in  its  largest  sense,  his  experience  was  always  working 
in  companionship  with  his  benevolence.  In  1831 
we  were  united  in  the  production  of  a  series  which 
was  directly  addressed  to  the  working  classes.  Dr. 
Conolly  brought  to  this  useful  labour — of  which  I 
shall  have  to  make  more  particular  mention — a  lucid 
style,  and  an  accurate  conception  of  the  true  mode  of 
reaching  the  uneducated.  "  Be  thou  familiar,  but  by 
no  means  vulgar,"  is  as  good  a  maxim  for  a  popular 
writer,  as  for  a  young  courtier  going  forth  into  the 
world,  to  deal  with  all  sorts  and  conditions  of  men. 

*"  The  Old  Printer  and  the^Modern  Press."     Murray.     1854. 


320  PASSAGES   OF   A    WORKING   LIFE  I 

We  had  many  lawyers  on  the  committee.  I  have 
mentioned  several  who  were  distinguished  for  their 
remarkable  scientific  qualifications.  Others  of  the 
bar  were  accomplished  scholars.  But  no  one  dis 
played  a  more  elegant  taste  than  John  Herman 
Merivale.  His  translations  fro"m  the  Greek  Antho 
logy,  and  from  the  minor  poems  of  Schiller,  have 
not  been  condemned  to  that  oblivion  which  attends 
the  greater  number  of  poetical  attempts.  The  -purity 
and  elegance  of  the  whole  mind  of  Mr.  Merivale  is 
reflected  in  his  poems.  Courteous  and  sympathizing, 
I  look  back  upon  my  occasional  intercourse  with  him 
with  respect  almost  bordering  upon  affection.  Mr. 
George  Cornewall  Lewis  brought  his  various  high 
qualifications  to  the  service  of  the  Society  at  a  later 
period,  when  he  became  a  contributor  to  its  publica 
tions.  I  mention  him  among  the  lawyers,  for  before 
he  joined  the  Useful  Knowledge  committee  he  had 
been  called  to  the  bar.  Of  the  elder  lawyers,  no 
one  was  more  valuable  to  the  society  than  Mr. 
James  Manning — perhaps  the  most  profound  of  the 
historical  and  antiquarian  lawyers  of  his  time.  His 
accurate  information  upon  many  abstruse  legal  mat 
ters  was  amply  displayed  when  he  became  one  of  the 
most  important  contributors  to  the  "  Penny  Cyclo 
paedia."  Mr.  David  Jardine  was  also  a  most  useful 
contributor  to  the  legal  department  of  the  Cyclo 
paedia,  and  was  the  author  of  "  Criminal  Trials,"  pub 
lished  in  the  Library  of  Entertaining  Knowledge — a 
valuable  contribution  to  our  constitutional  history. 
Let  me  not  omit  to  mention  the  youngest  of  the 
lawyers  amongst  us — Mr.  Thomas  Falconer,  who 
was  called  to  the  bar  in  1830.  He  inherited  literary 
tastes,  and  was  an  acute  as  well  as  a  modest  critic 


THE   SECOND    EPOCH.  321 

upon   the   unpublished    volumes    and   articles   that 
were  submitted  for  his  revision. 

I  have  finally  to  turn  to  a  knot  of  men,  eminent 
in  the  political  annals  of  our  country.  They  might 
at  first  view  be  regarded  as  the  Corinthian  capitals 
of  our  edifice.  But  this  would  only  be  a  half-truth. 
Lord  John  Russell,  Lord  Auckland,  Lord  Al thorp, 
Mr.  Denman,  Mr.  Spring  Eice,  Sir  Henry  Parnell, 
were  always  ready  to  work  as  members  of  our 
committee,  even  after  they  had  been  called  to  the 
highest  offices  of  the  State.  After  the  Reform  era 
I  have  sat  at  the  monthly  dinner  with  five  Cabinet 
Ministers,  to  whom  it  appeared  that  their  duty  was 
to  carry  forward  that  advancing  intelligence  of  the 
people  which  had  conducted  them  to  power,  and 
which  would  afford  the  best  security  that  liberal 
opinions  and  democratic  violence  should  not  be  in 
concert,  as  the  "  one  increasing  purpose  "  was  work 
ing  out  the  inevitable  changes  of  society  and  govern 
ment.  The  first  poet  of  the  generation  that  was 
immediately  to  follow  them  has  probably  shadowed 
out  the  convictions  that  made  Ministers  of  State 
zealous  educationists : 

"  Yet  1  doubt  not  through  the  ages  one  increasing  purpose  runs, 
And  the  thoughts  of  men  are  widened  with  the  process  of  the 
suns."  LocksUy  Hall. 

It  was  not  only  in  the  meetings  of  our  committees 
that  I  had  the  advantage,  for  my  editorial  guidance, 
of  the  opinions  of  men  of  accurate  minds  and  sound 
information  ;  but  I  was  frequently  also  in  corre 
spondence  with  those  who  took  a  more  than  common 
interest  in  particular  works.  Such  a  work  was  that 
well-known  contribution  to  the  "  Library  of  Enter- 


322  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE! 

taining  Knowledge,"  which  first  established  the  re 
putation  of  Mr.  George  Lillie  Craik  as  a  sound 
thinker  and  an  accomplished  writer.  To  myself, 
individually,  the  recollection  of  that  autumn  of  1828 
is  especially  dear,  for  it  saw  the  commencement  of  an 
intimacy  which  ripened  into  the  unbroken  friendship 
of  six-and-thirty  years.  In  the  preliminary  stages 
of  discussion  on  the  objects  and  mode  of  treatment 
of  a  book  such  as  this,  which  was  to  embrace  a  vast 
number  of  illustrative  anecdotes  of  the  love  of  know 
ledge  overcoming  the  opposition  of  circumstances, 
there  were  necessarily  different  estimates  of  the 
value  of  scientific  and  literary  studies,  whether  "for 
use,"  or  "  for  delight,"  or  "  for  ornament."  The  great 
distinction  between  the  love  of  knowledge  for  its  own 
sake,  and  the  love  of  knowledge  as  the  means  of 
worldly  advancement,  may  be  traced  very  distinctly 
in  the  two  popular  volumes  of  Mr.  Craik,  and  the 
equally  popular  "  Self  Help"  of  Mr.  Smiles. 

Mr.  Craik  had  written  a  preliminary  disser 
tation  in  the  sound  views  of  which  Mr.  Brougham 
expressed  himself  to  me  as  generally  coinciding. 
But  in  a  portion  of  a  letter,  dated  from  West 
moreland  in  September,  1828,  Mr.  Brougham  takes  a 
different  view  of  the  range  of  such  a  work  as  that 
proposed : 

"His  (Mr.  Craik's)  idea  of  the  line  to  be  drawn 
as  to  self-educated  men  in  modern  times,  is  also 
quite  correct;  but  we  must,  nevertheless,  confine 
the  examples  to  cases  which  are  quite  plainly  those 
of  men  who  have  greatly  altered  their  situation 
by  force  of  merit.  As  Watt,  Arkwright,  Franklin, 
Burns,  Bloomfield,  Mendelssohn — making  the  ground 


THE   SECOND  EPOCH.  323 

of  division  or  classification  self-exaltation  rather 
than  self-education,  though  they  often  will  coincide. 
This  field  is  quite  large  enough  for  one  book ;  but 
the  work  might  be  followed  by  another  compre 
hending  the  rest  of  it,  and  including  all  self-taught 
Genius  in  the  larger  sense.  To  give  an  example — • 
I  should  certainly  exclude  Newton,  though,  like 
Pascal,  he  taught  himself  mathematics  ;  also  Gran- 
ville  Sharpe,  though  he  raised  himself  by  his  merit  to 
great  fame ;  but  he  was  grandson  of  the  Archbishop 
of  York,  and  could  not  be  said  to  alter  his  station  in 
life.  I  look  forward  to  Mr.  Craik's  labours  as  of  the 
greatest  use  to  the  Society,  and  to  the  good  cause; 
having  the  greatest  confidence  in  his  sound  prin 
ciples,  and  a  very  high  opinion  of  his  talents." 

This  interesting  discussion  was  continued  between 
Mr.  Brougham,  Mr.  Hill,  Mr.  Craik,  and  myself,  till 
it  was  seen  how  the  opposite  views  could  be  resolved 
into  a  general  agreement.  I  have  before  me  Mr. 
Brougham's  proof  of  Mr.  Craik's  first  volume.  To 
Mr.  Brougham  is  to  be  assigned  the  merit  of  giving 
to  the  book  in  this  proof  the  title  which  has  come 
to  be  one  of  the  commonest  forms  of  speech  : 

"  THE  PURSUIT  OF  KNOWLEDGE  UNDER  DIFFI 
CULTIES." 

The  title  originally  stood, — 

"  THE  LOVE  OF  KNOWLEDGE  OVERCOMING  DIFFI 
CULTIES  IN  ITS  PURSUIT." 


CHAPTER  XV. 


EVERAL  years  had  passed,  crowded  with 
political  events.  The  amended  Reform 
Bill  was  passing  through  Committee  in  the 
House  of  Commons  in  February,  1832. 
There  seemed  to  be  little  doubt  that  a  Minis 
terial  majority  would  be  too  strong  in  the  Lower 
House  to  allow  any  re-actionary  measure  in  the 
House  of  Lords  to  be  successful.  The  new  Govern 
ment  officials  were  settling  themselves  to  the 
discharge  of  their  administrative  duties  as  if  a  long 
and  quiet  possession  of  place  had  been  won.  On  the 
13th  of  February,  I  received  a  note  from  Lord 
Auckland,  the  President  of  the  Board  of  Trade, 
expressing  his  desire  for  a  few  minutes'  conversation 
with  me  in  the  course  of  the  afternoon.  The  inter 
view  was  a  very  brief  one,  but  its  importance  to  me 
was  not  to  be  measured  by  its  duration.  The 
Cabinet  Minister  offered  me  a  new  office,  which  it 
was  proposed  to  create  at  the  Board  of  Trade,  for 
digesting  and  arranging  Parliamentary  and  other 
official  documents  for  the  information  of  members  of 
the  Government,  and  possibly  for  publication.  This 
duty  would  have  involved  a  regular  attendance  at 
Whitehall ;  the  salary  proposed  was  not  a  tempting 
one  ;  but  the  offer  seemed  to  open  the  way  for  a 
more  ambitious  career  than  that  of  a  publisher.  I 
requested  time  for  deliberation.  Having  consulted 
a  distinguished  friend,  he  advised  me  to  decline  the 


THE   SECOND   EPOCH.  325 

* 

proposal,  however  flattering.  Lord  Auckland  was 
surprised  but  not  displeased  at  my  rejection  of  his 
kind  overture.  He  asked  me  to  recommend  some 
gentleman  fitted  for  -the  post.  There  was  one  with 
whom  I  had  recently  formed  an  acquaintance,  Mr. 
George  Richardson  Porter.  He  had  written  a  paper  on 
Life  Assurance  for  the  "  Companion  to  the  Almanac," 
and  he  was  the  author  of  a  volume  on  the  Silk 
Manufacture,  published  in  Lardner's  "  Cyclopaedia." 
Mr.  Porter  received  the  appointment.  The  experi 
ment  was  perfectly  successful,  and  much  of  its 
success  may  be  attributed  to  the  ability  and  industry 
of  him  whom,  so  fortunately  for  the  public  good,  I 
had  recommended.  Mr.  Porter  became  the  head  of 
the  statistical  department  of  the  Board  of  Trade,  and 
in  1841  he  was  promoted  to  be  one  of  the  joint- 
secretaries  of  that  board.  Till  the  time  of  his 
lamented  death  in  1852,  we  were  mutually  attached 
friends,  and  he  was  one  of  the  most  valuable  con 
tributors  to  several  of  my  publications. 

Had  I  accepted  the  appointment  of  the  Board  of 
Trade  in  that  February,  it  is  probable  that  the  whole 
course  of  my  future  life  would  have  been  changed. 
It  was  upon  the  cards  that  either  I  should  have 
been  sitting  in  an  office  at  Whitehall  from  ten  till 
four,  cramming  Ministers  and  Members  of  Par 
liament  with  statistical  facts,  or  become  identified 
with  the  most  successful  experiment  in  popular 
literature  that  England  had  seen.  On  March  31st, 
1832,  appeared  the  first  number  of  "  The  Penny 
Magazine  of  the  Society  for  the  Diffusion  of  Useful 
Knowledge." 

In  a  debate  in  the  House  of  Commons  on  the  22nd 
of  May,  1834,  on  a  motion  for  the  Repeal  of  tho 


326  PASSAGES  OF   A   WORKING   LIFE: 

Stamp  Duty  on  Newspapers,  Mr.  M.  D.  Hill,  then 
member  for  Hull,  in  reply  to  Mr.  Bulwer  who  moved 
the  Repeal,  thus  described  the  origin  of  that  work  : 
"The  Honourable  Gentleman -was  pleased  to  cha 
racterize  '  The  Penny  Magazine,'  as  affording  a 
trumpery  education  to  the  people,  because  he  says  it 
deals  in  accounts  of  birds  and  insects,  and  such 
matters.  I  certainly  was  a  little  astonished  to  find 
my  Honourable  Friend  scout  an  insight  into  the 
wonders  of  creation,  as  a  trumpery  affair.  I  should 
be  sorry  if  his  designation  of  that  little  work  were 
correct,  because  the  blame  of  its  existence  rests  with 
myself,  it  being  a  project  of  my  own  ;  neither  am  I 
innocent  of  the  course  it  has  pursued  ;  which  from 
first  to  last  has  had,  and  still  has,  my  hearty  con 
currence."  The  circumstances  connected  with  this 
"project"  were  these.  The  town  in  that  time  of 
political  excitement  abounded  with  unstamped  weekly 
publications,  which  in  some  degree  came  under  the 
character  of  contraband  newspapers,  and  were  nearly 
all  dangerous  in  principle  and  coarse  in  language. 
Mr.  Hill  and  I  were  neighbours  on  Hampstead 
Heath,  and  as  we  walked  to  town  on  a  morning  of 
the  second  week  in  March,  our  talk  was  of  these 
cheap  and  offensive  publications.  "Let  us,"  he 
exclaimed,  "  see  what  something  cheap  and  good  can 
accomplish !  Let  us  have  a  Penny  Magazine  ! " 
"  And  what  shall  be  its  title  ?  "  said  I.  "THE  PENNY 
MAGAZINE."  We  went  at  once  to  the  Lord  Chan 
cellor.  He  cordially  entered  into  the  project.  A 
committee  of  the  Society  was  called,  and  such  a 
publication  was  decided  upon  after  some  hesitation. 
There  was  a  feeling  amongst  a  few  that  a  penny 
weekly  sheet  would  be  below  the  dignity  of  the 


THE    SECOND   EPOCH.  327 

Society.  One  gentleman  of  the  old  Whig  school, 
who  had  not  originally  belonged  to  the  Committee, 
said  again  and  again,  "  It  is  very  awkward."  Lord 
Brougham,  however,  was  not  accustomed  to  let 
awkward  things  stand  much  in  his  way.  "  The 
Penny  Magazine"  was  decided  upon.  I  undertook 
the  risk  of  the  publication,  and  was  appointed  to  be 
its  editor.  The  task  was  not  a  very  easy  one  in  the 
onset,  for  it  was  impossible  to  say,  before  the  issue  of 
a  few  numbers,  whether  the  periodical  sale  would  be 
twenty  thousand  or  a  hundred  thousand,  and  whether 
a  large  demand  would  be  a  permanent  one.  It  was 
therefore  necessary  to  have  a  due  regard  to  economy ; 
and  thus  the  attraction  of  expensive  woodcuts  could 
scarcely  be  ventured  upon  in  the  early  days  of  the 
experiment.  It  was  imperative  also  to  proceed  very 
cautiously  in  treading  near  the  ill-defined  line  that 
separated  the  essayist  from  the  newspaper  writer. 
I  have  a  letter  before  me  from  the  Solicitor  of  Stamps, 
in  which  he  says  he  has  perused  the  specimen 
numbers  (1  and  2)  of  the  Magazine  intended  to  be 
published  by  the  Society,  and  that  he  sees  nothing 
in  these  numbers  that  will  render  the  publication 
liable  to  stamp  duty.  So  I  went  confidently  to  my 
work.  Perhaps  no  circumstance  gave  me  greater 
encouragement  than  a  letter  from  Francis  Place,  who 
knew  more  about  the  working  classes,  and  had 
probably  more  influence  with  them,  than  any  man  in 
London.  He  describes  his  pleasure  at  seeing  the 
prospectus.  He  begs  me  to  let  him  have  a  quantity, 
which  he  would  cause  "  to  be  usefully  dispersed  in 
the  houses  of  call  for  journeymen,  in  workshops,  and 
factories."  Mr.  Place  united  to  his  business  of 
master-tailor,  at  Charing  Cross,  an  intense  devotion 


328  PASSAGES   OF   A  WORKING   LIFE: 

to  all  the  leading  questions  of  politics  that  had  been 
agitating  the  world  since  the  time  of  the  French 
Revolution.  His  collection  of  contemporary  pam 
phlets  was  as  extensive  and  complete  as  any  man 
could  have  formed.  I  believe  it  was  dispersed  at 
his  death,  but  it  ought  to  have  gone  to  the  British 
Museum. 

The  excellent  Dr.  Arnold,  some  months  after  the 
"  Penny  Magazine "  had  appeared,  described  it  as 
"  all  ramble-scramble."  It  was  meant  to  be  so — to 
touch  rapidly  and  lightly  upon  many  subjects.  In 
the  introductory  article  of  the  first  number,  I  wrote  : 
"  Whatever  tends  to  enlarge  the  range  of  observa 
tion,  to  add  to  the  store  of  facts,  to  awaken  the 
reason,  and  to  lead  the  imagination  into  agreeable 
and  innocent  trains  of  thought,  may  assist  in  the 
establishment  of  a  sincere  and  ardent  desire  for 
information  ;  and  in  this  point  of  view  our  little 
miscellany  may  prepare  the  way  for  the  reception  of 
more  elaborate  and  precise  knowledge,  and  be  as  the 
small  optic-glass  called  the  finder,  which  is  placed  by 
the  side  of  a  large  telescope,  to  enable  the  observer 
to  discover  the  star  which  is  afterwards  to  be  care 
fully  examined  by  the  more  perfect  instrument."  I 
certainly  never  received  any  more  striking  testimony 
to  the  usefulness  of  the  "  ramble-scramble "  in 
supplying  a  want  to  those  who  were  striving  to  gain 
knowledge,  but  who  were  too  poor  to  buy  books, 
than  the  following  passage  in  the  "  Autobiography 
of  an  Artisan,"  published  in  3847.  Christopher 
Thomson,  the  author  of  this  interesting  book,  had 
settled  as  a  house-painter  at  Edwinstowe,  a  village 
in  Nottinghamshire  : — "  Squatting  down  here  penni 
less,  without  a  table  or  three-legged  stool  to  furnish 


THE    SECOND    EPOCH.  .  329 

a  cottage  with,  it  may  easily  be  imagined  that  I  had 
tough  work  of  it.  My  great  want  was  books  ;  I  was 
too  poor  to  purchase  expensive  ones,  and  the  '  cheap 
literature  '  was  not  then,  as  now,  to  be  found  in 
every  out-o'-the-way  nooking.  However,  Knight  had 
unfurled  his  paper  banners  of  free  trade  in  letters. 
The  '  Penny  Magazine  '  was  published  —  I  borrowed 
the  first  volume,  and  determined  to  make  an  effort 
to  possess  myself  with  the  second  ;  accordingly,  with 
January,  1833,  I  determined  to  discontinue  the  use 
of  sugar  in  my  tea,  hoping  that  my  family  would  not 
then  feel  the  sacrifice  necessary  to  buy  the  book. 
Since  that  period,  I  have  expended  large  sums  in 
books,  some  of  them  very  costly  ones,  but  I  never 
had  one  so  truly  valuable  as  was  the  second  volume 
of  the  '  Penny  Magazine  ;'  and  I  looked  as  anxiously 
for  the  issue  of  the  monthly  part  as  I  did  for  the 
means  of  getting  a  living."  This  then  was  the 
service  which  the  "  Penny  Magazine  "  was  rendering, 
at  the  beginning  of  1832,  to  the  general  cause  of 
letters.  I  must  associate  with  it  "  Chambers'  Edin 
burgh  Journal,"  a  publication  which  was  established 
a  few  weeks  before  mine.  They  were  making  readers. 
They  were  'raising  up  a  new  class,  and  a  much  larger 
class  than  previously  existed,  to  be  the  purchasers  of 
books.  They  were  planting  the  commerce  of  books 
upon  broader  foundations  than  those  upon  which  it 
had  been  previously  built.  They  were  relegating 
the  hole-and-corner  literature  of  the  days  of  exclu- 
siveness  to  the  rewards  which  the  few  could  furnish  ; 
preparing  the  way  for  writers  and  booksellers  to  reap 
the  abundant  harvest  when  the  "  second  rain  "  of 
knowledge  should  be  descending  "  uninterrupted, 
unabated,  unbounded  ;  fertilizing  some  grounds  and 


330  PASSAGES    OF    A   WORKING   LIFE! 

overflowing   others  ;    changing  the   whole    form   of 
social  life."  * 

The  success  of  the  "Penny  Magazine"  was  an 
astonishment  to  most  persons ;  I  honestly  confess  it 
was  a  surprise  to  myself.  It  was  not  till  the  autumn 
that  an  attempt  was  made  by  the  means  of  woodcuts 
to  familiarise  the  people  with  great  works  of  art. 
Then  were  presented  to  them  engravings  of  a  costly 
character,  of  such  subjects  as  the  Laocoon,  the  Apollo 
Belvedere,  the  Cartoons,  and  the  great  Cathedrals, 
British  and  Foreign.  At  the  end  of  1832,  the 
"Penny  Magazine"  had  reached  a  sale  of  200,000 
in  weekly  numbers  and  monthly  parts.  In  the  pre 
face  to  the  first  volume,  under  the  date  of  December 
the  18th,  I  thus  wrote  : — "  It  was  considered  by 
Edmund  Burke,  about  forty  years  ago,  that  there 
were  80,000  readers  in  this  country.  In  the  present 
year  it  has  been  shown,  by  the  sale  of  the  '  Penny 
Magazine,'  that  there  are  200,000  purchasers  of  one 
periodical  work.  It  may  be  fairly  calculated  that 
the  number  of  readers  of  that  single  work  amounts 
to  a  million.  If  this  incontestable  evidence  of  the 
spread  of  the  ability  to  read  be  most  satisfactory,  it 
is  still  more  satisfactory  to  consider  the  species  of 
reading  which  has  had  such  an  extensive  and  increas 
ing  popularity.  In  this  work  there  has  never  been  a 
single  sentence  that  could  inflame  a  vicious  appetite ; 
and  not  a  paragraph  that  could  minister  to  prejudices 
and  superstitions  which  a  few  years  since  were  com 
mon.  There  have  been  no  excitements  for  the  lovers 
of  the  marvellous — no  tattle  or  abuse  for  the  grati 
fication  of  a  diseased  taste  for  personality,  and,  above 
all,  no  party  politics." 

*  Scott.     "QuentinDurward." 


THE   SECOND   EPOCH.  331 

Although  the  "  Penny  Magazine  "  has  a  peculiar 
interest  as  a  subject  of  literary  history,  it  would  be 
tedious  if  I  were  to  attempt  any  minute  notice  of 
its  contributors  ;  but  I  may  mention  a  few  whose 
names  occur  to  me  as  I  turn  over  its  early  pages. 
There  were  members  of  the  Committee  who  had  a 
very  just  conception  of  what  writing  for  the  people 
meant.  An  article  by  Mr.  Long,  in  the  seventh 
number,  on  the  value  of  a  penny,  is  as  clear  and  im 
pressive  as  any  statement  from  the  pen  of  Cobbett. 
Mr.  De  Morgan  wrote  mathematical  papers,  in  which 
the  rationale  of  Fractions  was  exhibited,  and  the 
fallacy  of  such  notions  as.  squaring  the  circle  was 
pointed  out.  Mr.  Craik  could  be  depended  upon  for 
enlightened  as  well  as  familiar  expositions  of  the 
value  of  standard  works,  under  the  head  of  "The 
Library."  Mr.  Charles  Macfaiiane,  of  whom  I  shall 
have  subsequently  to  speak,  wrote  most  amusing 
accounts  of  his  travelling  experiences.  There  were 
authors  not  regularly  engaged  as  contributors,  who 
furnished  valuable  papers  of  marked  ability.  I  had 
been  in  the  habit  of  familiar  intercourse  with  Allan 
Cunningham,  even  before  the  time  when  he  wrote 
a  paper  in  the  "  Quarterly  Magazine."  For  the 
"  Penny  Magazine  "  he  furnished  a  series  of  articles 
on  "  The  Old  English  Ballads."  I  must  not  omit  to 
mention  the  interesting  relations  of  his  South  African 
experience,  contributed  by  Thomas  Pringle,  one  of  the 
most  amiable  of  men,  with  whom  I  had  cultivated 
something  higher  than  mere  intimacy,  when  our 
friendly  relations  were  cut  short  by  his  death  in 
1834.  His  biography  of  Sir  Walter  Scott,  was  called 
forth  by  the  great  novelist's  lamented  death  on  the 
21st  of  September,  1832.  It  occupied  an  entire 


332  PASSAGES    OF    A    WORKING   LIFE: 

number  of  the  "  Penny  Magazine,"  and  contains 
some  valuable  facts  regarding  Mr.  Pringle's  personal 
intimacy  with  Scott  in  1819. 

It  may  not  be  without  an  interest  of  no  transient 
nature  that  I  proceed  to  notice  the  beginnings  of  my 
intercourse  with  a  man  who  left  his  mark  upon  his 
time,  but  who,  when  I  first  knew  him,  was  not  only 
under  the  check  of  "  poverty's  unconquerable  bar,"  but 
was  suffering  under  a  great  physical  privation  which 
appeared  likely  to  disqualify  him  for  any  prosperous 
career  in  life.  On  the  18th  of  July,  1833,  a  short 
stout  man,  of  about  thirty  years  of  age,  presented 
himself  to  me  at  my  place  of  business  in  Ludgate 
Street,  to  which  premises,  nearer  the  great  hive  of 
"  the  Trade  "  I  had  found  it  indispensable  to  remove. 
He  tendered  me  a  note  from  Mr.  Coates,  at  the  same 
time  uttering  some  strange  sounds,  which  could 
scarcely  be  called  articulate.  The  few  lines  of 'intro 
duction  said  that  the  bearer,  Mr.  Kitto,  laboured 
under  the  misfortune  of  nearly  absolute  deafness, 
and  that  I  must  therefore  communicate  with  hirn  in 
writing.  Mr.  Coates  enclosed  me  a  letter  from  Mr. 
Woollcombe,  the  chairman  of  our  local  committee 
at  Plymouth.  That  letter  is  now  before  me,  dated 
the  10th  of  July.  This  gentleman — who  appears  to 
have  been  peculiarly  fitted,  by  his  compassion  for 
misfortune  and  his  sympathy  with  talent,  to  rescue 
a  pauper  boy  from  the  misery  and  degradation  of  a 
parish  workhouse — pleaded  the  claims  of  the  un 
known  John  Kitto  for  literary  employment  in  a  way 
so  interesting  that  I  cannot  hesitate  to  transcribe  his 
words  :  "  He  is  a  native  of  this  town,  and  became 
known  to  us  by  his  misfortunes,  as  a  lad  of  extra 
ordinary  capacity,  though  reduced  by  the  vices  of 


THE    SECOND   EPOCH.  333 

his  father  to  the  condition  of  an  inhabitant  of  our 
workhouse,  and  by  an  accident  to  an  almost  entire 
loss  of  the  sense  of  hearing.  He  has  subsequently 
been  employed  as  a  printer  at  Malta,  by  a  religious 
society.  But  he  is  now  just  returned  from  a  resi 
dence  of  some  years  at  Bagdad ;  having  embarked 
from  England  for  Petersburg,  and  descended  from 
thence  through  Russia  to  Moscow  and  other  towns, 
entering  Persia  by  the  Desert  ;  of  that  country  he 
has  acquired  considerable  information,  which  he  is 
ready  to  communicate  through  your  publications. 
He  returned  to  England  in  June  last.  *  * 

His  appearance  is  not  prepossessing ;  his  deafness  is 
comewhat  embarrassing  ;  his  talents  are  considerable, 
memory  retentive,  observation  quick,  and  undivided 
as  other  men's  are.  His  life  is  a  series  of  extra 
ordinary  incidents,  such  as  one  is  unwilling  to  ac 
knowledge  as  being  natural.  I  laugh  and  tell  him 
the  world  is  to  be  now  indebted  to  two  Devonshire 
men  for  the  information  it  is  to  receive  of  distant 
countries.  The  one  a  blind  man  (Lieut.  Holman), 
who  is  to  publish  what  he  has  seen  in  his  progress 
round  the  world.  And  (John  Kitto)  a  deaf  man,  of 
what  he  has  heard  in  Persia  !" 

I  may  have  had  something  like  an  anticipation 
of  this  poor  man's  future  eminence,  judging  from  the 
unusual  care  with  which  I  appear  to  have  preserved 
some  memoranda  of  our  intercourse.  I  find  a  paper 
dated  July  the  21st,  headed  "  Conversation  with  Mr. 
Kitto,"  of  which  the  following  is  the  substance  of 
half  a  dozen  pages  of  my  notes.  I  asked  him  what 
European  languages  he  knew.  He  said  Italian, 
French  perfectly,  not  German.  He  had  proposed  a 
new  project,  into  which  I  thought  the  Society  would 


334  PASSAGES   OF   A   WOKKISIG   LIFE: 

not  at  present  enter  ;  but,  I  should  be  glad  to  en 
deavour  to  arrange  for  his  employment  in  the  "  Penny 
Magazine  "  and  "  Penny  Cyclopaedia."  I  asked  if  he 
could  undertake  to  give  a  personal  narrative  of  his 
travels  in  Persia.  That  would  show  what  he  could 
do,  and  he  might  be  afterwards  engaged  on  geogra 
phical  articles  for  the  "  Cyclopaedia,"  requiring  more 
precise  and  systematic  information.  I  then  arranged 
with  him  to  furnish  a  few  articles  of  the  nature  I 
had  mentioned,  to  be  paid  for  at  the  rate  of  a  guinea 
and  a  half  a  page.  And  so  John  Kitto,  the  future 
Biblical  critic  and  commentator,  went  away  per 
fectly  happy,  to  produce  the  first  number  of  "The 
Deaf  Traveller,"  which  appeared  in  "The  Penny 
Magazine"  of  the  10th  of  August.  A  month  of 
experiment  had  passed,  and  I  then  engaged  Kitto 
at  a  regular  salary,  to  work  in  my  own  room  in  Fleet 
Street.  I  could  -thus  assist  him  whenever  he  had 
any  question  to  propose,  and  to  me  he  was  no  inter 
ruption,  for  our  golden  silence  was  rarely  broken. 
He  writes  to  a  friend  on  the  18th  of  August,  after 
he  had  been  regularly  employed  for  a  week  : — "  I 
have  little  doubt  that,  through  Mr.  Knight's  indul 
gence,  I  shall  be  able  to  keep  this  situation  ;  the 
rather,  as  whatever  spare  time  '  The  Penny  Maga 
zine'  does  not  require,  is  spent  in  perfecting  my 
knowledge  of  French  and  Italian,  and  in  acquiring 
the  German.  I  do  thank  God  for  this  relief  from  a 
state  of  great  anxiety,  in  which  I  had  begun  to 
entertain  the  most  melancholy  view  of  the  things 
before  me,  and  saw  possible  consequences  that  I 
could  not  bear  steadily  to  contemplate."  Sitting,  as 
he  describes,  "  in  Mr.  Knight's  room,  with  plenty  of 
books  about  me,  and  more  below,"  authors,  printers, 


THE   SECOND   EPOCH.  335 

country  agents,  and  other  men  of  business  come  and 
go  to  impart  something  to  my  private  ear.  They 
addressed  me  in  whispers,  when  they  saw  a  somewhat 
dwarfish  man  of  sallow  complexion,  bright  eyes,  and 
lofty  forehead,  sitting  close  to  my  table  at  a  separate 
desk,  writing  incessantly.  To  some  he  might  have 
looked  as  a  very  suspicious  person,  who  was  placed 
there  to  note  down  their  conversation.  They  soon 
became  accustomed  to  this  companionship,  and  learnt 
that  he  would  be  the  most  faithful  depository  of  their 
spoken  secrets,  whether  they  were  to  roar  as  loud  as 
Bully  Bottom  when  he  desired  to  play  the  lion,  or 
spake  "in  a  monstrous  little  voice,"  as  when  the 
same  actor  of  all- work  would  have  played  "  Thisby 
dear." 

It  appears  from  the  correspondence  of  Dr.  Arnold, 
that  in  the  early  stages  of  "  The  Penny  Magazine  " 
he  felt  a  strong  desire  to  see  something  of  the  reli 
gious  spirit  imparted  to  the  works  of  the  Useful 
Knowledge  Society.  His  views  upon  the  subject 
were  so  just  and  reasonable,  that  it  is  to  me  a  matter 
of  the  deepest  regret  that  I  was  never  brought  into 
direct  communication  with  him  in  my  editorial 
capacity.  He  says  :  "  It  does  seem  to  me  as  forced 
and  unnatural  in  us  now  to  dismiss  the  principles  of 
the  Gospel  and  its  great  motives  from  our  conversa 
tion, — as  is  done  habitually,  for  example,  in  Miss 
Edgeworth's  books, — as  it  is  to  fill  our  pages  with 
Hebraisms,  and  to  write  and  speak  in  the  words  and 
style  of  the  Bible.  The  slightest  touches  of  Chris 
tian  principle  and  Christian  hope  in  the  Society's 
biographical  and  historical  articles  would  be  a  sort 
of  living  salt  to  the  whole  ;  and  would  exhibit  that 
union  which  I  never  will  consent  to  think  unattain- 
15 


336  PASSAGES    OF    A    WORKING   LIFE: 

able,  between  goodness  and  wisdom ;  between  every 
thing  that  is  manly,  sensible,  and  free,  and  every 
thing  that  is  pure  and  self-denying,  and  humble,  and 
heavenly."  *  Dr.  Arnold's  strong  desire  was  that  of 
being  able  to  co-operate  with  a  body  which  he  "  be 
lieved  might,  with  God's  blessing,  do  more  good  of 
all  kinds,  political,  intellectual,  and  spiritual,  than 
any  other  society  in  existence."  •(•  He  was  anxious, 
he  wrote,  "  to  furnish  them  regularly  with  articles  of 
the  kind  that  I  desire."  For  myself  I  can  distinctly 
state  that  no  expression  of  such  a  desire  ever  reached 
me ;  nor  do  I  know  that  any  communication  to  such  an 
effect  was  ever  formally  put  before  the  sub-committee 
for  "  The  Penny  Magazine."  Dr.  Arnold's  nephew, 
Mr.  John  Ward,  a  solicitor  in  Bedford  Row,  to  whom 
he  writes  in  1832,  about  "  your  Useful  Knowledge 
Society  Committee,"  was  a  member  of  that  commit 
tee,  and  he  contributed  some  very  useful  but  rather 
dry  "  Statistical  Notes  "  to  "  The  Penny  Magazine." 
These  certainly  were  not  calculated  to  cany  out  Dr. 
Arnold's  views.  But  he  himself  has  borne  the  most 
cordial  testimony  to  one  circumstance  in  the  conduct 
of  "  The  Penny  Magazine,"  which  shows  that  there 
was  no  settled  purpose  to  exclude  from  that  work 
"  the  slightest  touches  of  Christian  principle."  I 
have  said  with  reference  to  the  religious  articles  of 
the  "  Plain  Englishman,"  that  Dr.  Arnold  wrote  "  in 
terms  of  somewhat  extravagant  commendation  of  a 
short  article  on  Mirabeau  which  I  had  written."  J 
The  letter  was  to  Mr.  Tooke,  the  treasurer  of  the 


*  "Life  and  Correspondence,"  vol.  i.  p.  274. 

t  /Wa.,  p.  275. 

J  "Passages,"  vol.  i.  p.  243. 


THE    SECOND    EPOCH.  337 

Society,  and  for  the  sake  of  clearing  up  this  im 
portant  question  of  principle,  I  must  quote  the  pas 
sage  to  which  I  referred.  "  I  cannot  tell  you  how 
much  I  was  delighted  by  the  conclusion  of  an  article 
on  Mirabeau,  in  '  The  Penny  Magazine'  of  May  12. 
That  article  is  exactly  a  specimen  of  what  I  wished 
to  see,  but  done  far  better  than  I  could  do  it.  I 
never  wanted  articles  on  religious  subjects  half  so 
much  as  articles  on  common  subjects  written  with  a 
decidedly  Christian  tone.  History  and  Biography 
are  far  better  vehicles  of  good,  I  think,  than  any 
direct  comments  on  Scripture,  or  essays  on  Evi 
dences."  *  The  conclusion  of  the  article  to  which 
Dr.  Arnold  refers,  is  as  follows: — "The  career  of 
Mirabeau  offers  a  few  consolatory  remarks  to  those 
who  are  gifted  with  no  extraordinary  faculties,  either 
for  good  or  for  evil  Mirabeau  swayed  the  destinies 
of  millions,  but  he  was  never  happy ;  Mirabeau  had 
almost  reached  the  pinnacle  of  human  power,  and 
yet  he  fell  a  victim  to  the  same  evil  passions  which 
degrade  and  ruin  the  lowest  of  mankind.  He  could 
never  be  really  great,  because  he  was  never  freed 
from  the  bondage  of  his  own  evil  desires.  The  man 
who  steadily  pursues  a  consistent  course  of  duty, 
which  has  for  its  object  to  do  good  to  himself  and  to 
all  around  him,  will  be  followed  to  the  grave  by  a 
few  humble  and  sincere  mourners,  and  no  record  will 
remain  except  in  the  hearts  of  those  who  loved  him, 
to  tell  of  his  earthly  career.  But  that  man  may 
gladly  leave  to  such  as  Mirabeau  the  music,  the 
torches,  and  the  cannon,  by  which  a  nation 
proclaimed  its  loss ;  for  assuredly  he  has  felt  that 

*  "Life  and  Correspondence,"  vol.  L  p.  299. 


338  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE: 

inward  consolation,  and  that  sustaining  hope  through 
out  his  life,  which  only  the  good  can  feel ;  he 
has  fully  enjoyed,  in  all  its  purity,  the  holy 
influence  of  '  the  peace  of  God,  which  passeth  all 
understanding.'  " 

I  think  that  I  may  confidently  say,  that  without 
attempting  to  impart  to  the  "  Penny  Magazine "  a 
distinctly  religious  character,  I  did  not  interpret 
in  a  too  literal  signification  the  original  rule  of  the 
Society  with  reference  to  religion — that  is,  to  abstain 
from  publishing  on  that  subject,  "  convinced  that  the 
numerous  institutions  already  existing  for  the  diffu 
sion  of  religious  knowledge  in  every  shape  will  best 
advance  that  momentous  end."  *  That  I  might  have 
been  encouraged  to  do  more  in  the  incidental  manner 
advocated  by  Dr.  Arnold  I  cannot  doubt,  had  his 
approval  of  what  he  had  read  been  communicated 
to  me.  When  I  first  saw  the  opinion  of  this  good 
and  great  man  in  his  "  Life,"  by  the  Rev.  Arthur 
Stanley,  published  after  his  decease,  I  felt  it  was 
an  injustice  to  myself  on  the  part  of  the  treasurer 
of  the  Society  that  this  letter  had  been  withheld 
from  me. 

I  cannot  conclude  this  notice  of  the  early  history 
of  the  "  Penny  Magazine  "  without  adverting  to  one 
who  first  gave  me  the  benefit  of  his  assistance,  in  the 
office  generally  known  as  that  of  a  sub-editor,  soon 
after  I  became  connected  with  the  Useful  Knowledge 
Society.  Alexander  Ramsay  has  been  for  five-and- 
thirty  years  my  friend  and  fellow-labourer.  He  has 
worked  with  me  in  every  undertaking  in  which  I 

*  First  Annual  Report  of  the  Society,  1828. 


THE    SECOND    EPOCH.  339 

have  been  engaged,  from  the  second  volume  of  the 
"  British  Almanac  and  Companion  "  for  1830,  to  the 
last  for  1864?.  He  has  brought  to  this  long  course  of 
duty  not  only  the  ministerial  services  which  belong 
to  a  reader  of  manuscripts  and  a  corrector  of  the 
press,  but  taste,  and  knowledge,  and  readiness  of 
resource,  well  adapted  for  original  composition,  in  the 
accustomed  progress  and  occasional  exigencies  of 
periodical  works.  I  think  it  is  creditable  to  both  of 
us  that  in  a  long  struggle  by  societies  and  individuals 
for  the  establishment  of  cheap  and  wholesome  lite 
rature,  we  have  been  labouring  side  by  side — that 

"  In  this  glorious  and  well-foughten  field, 
We  kept  together  in  our  chivalry  !  " 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

HE  success  of  the  '  Penny  Magazine*  has 
induced  the  Committee  to  undertake 
the  publication  of  a  '  Penny  Cyclopaedia,' 
in  Numbers  and  Monthly  Parts.  A  work 
of  such  magnitude  and  novelty  requires  all  the 
assistance  which  can  be  afforded  it  by  the  Members 
of  the  Society,  both  in  London  and  in  the  Country, 
in  order  to  give  it  publicity  and  circulation."  Such 
was  the  announcement  of  their  greatest  undertaking 
in  the  annual  address  of  the  Useful  Knowledge 
Society,  dated  June  30,  1832.  A  specimen  of  the 
projected  "  Penny  Cyclopaedia  "  had  been  printed  by 
Mr.  Clowes  on  the  previous  2nd  of  June.  This  fact 
was  certified  by  him  after  a  surreptitious  "  Penny 
Cyclopaedia  "  had  been  advertised  in  the  daily  papers 
of  the  16th  of  August  "as  now  ready."  This  had 
been  met  on  the  17th  by  an  advertisement  from  the 
Committee,  cautioning  the  public  against  an  attempt 
to  impose  upon  them.  The  career  of  this  pretender 
was  terminated  before  the  issue  of  the  first  number 
of  the  real  "Penny  Cyclopaedia,"  on  the  2nd  of 
January,  1833. 

In  characterizing  their  undertaking  as  "  a  work  of 
such  magnitude  and  novelty,"  the  Committee  appear 
to  have  looked  at  its  magnitude,  rather  with  reference 
to  the  universal  range  of  the  proposed  information, 
than  to  the  contemplated  limits  in  point  of  size.  I 


THE   SECOND    EPOCH.  341 

have  stated  that  the  "  Penny  Cyclopaedia  "  was  pro 
jected  by  me  "to  form  a  moderate-sized  book  of 
eight  volumes."  *  The  novelty  was  not  to  consist 
in  producing  a  Cyclopaedia  under  one  alphabetical 
arrangement,  but  in  its  issue  in  weekly  sheets,  each 
of  which  was  to  be  sold  at  a  penny.  But  there  was 
another  novelty  which  would  very  soon  be  discovered 
by  the  educated  portion  of  the  public,  upon  a  com 
parison  of  this  work  with  existing  Cyclopaedias. 
It  was  not  an  affair  of  scissors  and  paste.  It  was  not 
a  hash  from  German  and  French  sources.  Its  writers 
had  not  "been  at  a  great  feast  of  languages  and 
stolen  the  scraps."  Every  article  was  to  be  original ; 
to  be  furnished  by  various  men,  each  the  best  that 
could  be  found  in  special  departments  of  knowledge. 
The  essential  difficulty  of  making  the  contributions 
at  once  brief  and  complete  was  discovered  when  the 
experiment  Qame  to  be  tried  for  a  few  months.  It 
was  impossible,  moreover,  to  offer  an  adequate 
remuneration  to  a  competent  scholar  or  man  of 
science,  when  it  was  said  to  him — You  must  give  us 
the  very  cream  of  your  knowledge  ;  you  must  pour 
out  the  fullest  information  in  the  most  condensed 
form  of  words  ;  your  articles  must  nevertheless  be 
readable  and  perfectly  intelligible  to  the  popular 
mind  ;  and  yet,  under  these  difficult  conditions,  you 
must  be  paid  at  a  certain  rate  per  page.  This 
"solatium,"  not  low  as  compared  with  reviews  and 
magazine  articles  in  reference  to  the  mere  number 
of  words,  was  very  low  if  the  merit  of  the  Cyclopaedia 
was  to  consist  in  extreme  compression,  whilst  the 
Review  and  the  Magazine  conductors  would  allow  of 

*  Companion  to  the  Almanac,  1858. 


342  PASSAGES   OF    A   WOKKING   LIFE  I 

any  amoimt  of  expansion  not  altogether  extravagant. 
The  plan  would  never  work.  It  would  pay  the 
gardener  to  grow  dwarf  pear  trees  and  peach  trees, 
but  it  would  not  pay  the  writer  to  produce  dwarfed 
articles  that,  like  the  rarities  of  the  hot-house  and 
conservatory,  should  be  perfect  in  form,  if  not  in  size, 
bear  good  fruit,  and  not  die  very  prematurely.  A 
very  clever  and  accomplished  author,  Mr.  Samuel 
Phillips,  thus  described  the  issue  of  this  experiment : 
"  When  the  Cyclopaedia  was  started,  the  public  were 
invited  to  pay  their  penny  a  we*ek,  and  to  seize  the 
opportunity  of  securing,  not  only  a  valuable,  but 
also  an  incomparably  cheap  publication.  '  Useful 
knowledge '  was  to  be  '  diffused '  by  a  society 
appointed  for  the  express  purpose,  but  it  was  not  to 
be  (  diffusive.'  It  was  to  be  poured  abroad,  but  in 
such  a  form  as  should  instruct,  not  weary  or  perplex 
the  recipient.  If  we  remember  rightly,  eight  good 
compact  volumes  were  to  contain  the  substantial 
food  for  which  the  working  mind  was  pining.  Before 
one  volume,  however,  was  completed,  the  Committee 
thought  it  expedient  to  hint  that  it  must  '  be 
observed  that  the  plan  of  the  Cyclopcedia  had  been 
rather  enlarged.'  After  a  year  the  plan  had  enlarged 
so  much  that  the  rate  of  issue  was  doubled.  It  was 
no  longer  a  penny  a  week,  but  twopence.  After 
three  years  it  was  quadrupled — fourpence  a-week 
instead  of  twopence.  Had  the  original  plan  of  a 
penny  weekly  issue  been  persevered  in,  it  would  have 
taken  exactly  thirty-seven  years  to  complete  the 
business."  * 

The  extension  of  the  quantity  of  the  Cyclopasdia 

*  "Times, "Oct.  12,  1854. 


THE    SECOND    EPOCH.  343 

was  no  doubt  unavoidable  under  the  superintendence 
of  the  Society,  but  it  destroyed  its  commercial  value. 
Had  it  been  a  careful  compilation,  instead  of  an 
original  work  furnished  by  nearly  two  hundred  con 
tributors,  it  would  have  been  to  me  a  fortune.  In 
that  case,  its  preparation  being  confined  to  a  few 
persons,  its  proposed  limits  could  have  been  steadily 
adhered  to.  I  have  recorded, — without  inferring 
that  any  blame  was  in  the  least  degree  to  be  attached 
to  those  who  were  responsible  for  its  conduct — what 
was  the  commercial  result  of  this  enterprise.  "  The 
Committee  had  the  honour  of  the  woik,  in  its 
extended  form,  but  without  incurring  any  of  the  risk, 
or  contributing  one  shilling  to  the  cost,  the  literary 
expenditure  alone  having  reached  nearly  40,000  £. 
Upon  the  completion  of  the  Cyclopaedia,  the  balance 
upon  the  outlay  above  the  receipts  was  30,788£."  * 
The  regular  decrease  in  the  sale  was  very  marked. 
While  it  continued  to  be  published  upon  its  original 
plan  of  one  number  weekly,  the  sale  was  75,000. 
The  instant  there  was  an  issue  of  two  numbers  a 
week  it  fell  to  55,000,  and  at  the  end  of  its  second 
year  it  had  fallen  to  44,000.  When  the  twopence 
a  week  became  fourpence,  the  rate  of  diminution 
became  still  more  rapid.  The  sale  of  the  first  year 
was  double  that  of  the  fourth  year.  The  sale  of  the 
fourth  year  doubled  that  of  the  eighth  year.  It  then 
found  its  level,  and  became  steady  to  the  end — the 
55,000  of  the  latter  months  of  1833  having  been 
reduced  to  20,000  at  the  close  of  1843.  The  Com 
mittee  of  the  Society,  when  the  original  project  had 
been  departed  from,  and  they  saw  that  the  under- 

*  Companion  to  the  Almanac,  1858. 


344  PASSAGES    OF    A   WORKING   LIFE: 

taking  had  become  to  me  a  burden  and  a  loss,  passed 
a  resolution  that  no  rent  be  paid  upon  the  first 
110,000  copies  of  each  number  of  the  "Penny 
Cyclopaedia."  Rent  was  then  to  commence  ;  and  to 
continue  till  the  work  had  reached  a  sale  of  200,000, 
when  the  Society  would  no  longer  ask  for  a  remunera 
tion  for  its  superintendence.  No  doubt  I  was 
grateful  for  this  sanguine  anticipation  of  a  good  time 
coming,  but  it  is  scarcely  prudent  or  satisfactory  for 
a  commercial  man  to  postpone  his  profits  ad 
Calendar  Graecas.  The  chronic  loss  for  eleven 
years,  which  was  induced  by  the  Cyclopaedia,  and 
which  fell  wholly  upon  me,  absorbed  every  other 
source  of  profit  in  my  extensive  business,  leaving  me 
little  beyond  a  bare  maintenance,  without  the  hope 
of  laying  by  for  the  future. 

There  was  a  very  serious  interruption  to  the  sale 
of  the  Cyclopaedia  after  it  had  existed  about  six 
months  ;  which  may  be  worth  recording,  as  exhibiting 
the  evils  of  unrepealed  laws  passed  in  former  states 
of  society  and  under  different  circumstances.  I  find 
this  record  in  the  Minutes  of  the  Committee  of  the 
12th  of  June,  1833  :  "Mr.  Knight  laid  on  the  table 
a  letter  from  Mr.  Drake,  of  Birmingham,  dated  the 
10th  instant,  which  stated,  that  informations  had 
been  filed,  and  convictions  obtained,  under  the  27th 
clause  of  the  39th  George  III.,  chap.  79,  against 
booksellers  in  that  town,  for  selling  a  publication 
whereof  the  printer's  name  did  not  appear  on  the  first 
and  last  pages  ;  and  that  in  consequence  many  book 
sellers  were  fearful  ©f  selling  the  '  Penny  Magazine ' 
and  '  Cyclopaedia.'  "  Copies  of  these  and  other  letters 
received  on  this  subject  were  transmitted  to  Mr. 
Spring  Rice,  with  whom  1  had  an  interview.  The 


THE   SECOND   EPOCH.  345 

result  was  that,  although  a  law  might  eventually  be 
passed  to  remedy  the  oppression  of  these  qui  tarn 
informations,  the  statute  of  the  39th  George  III. 
could  not  at  once  be  repealed.  I  had  no  remedy 
but  to  call  in  the  whole  of  the  stock  in  the  hands 
of  many  wholesale  agents  scattered  through  the 
country,  who  had  to  go  through  the  same  process 
with  those  they  had  supplied.  The  law  was  sub 
sequently  altered  in  its  effect  by  the  Government 
deciding  that  it  should  be  left  to  the  discretion 
of  the  Attorney-General  to  prosecute  publishers 
in  all  cases  where  the  statute  was  not  strictly 
adhered  to. 

Mr.  Phillips  has  said  in  his  article  on  the  "  Penny 
Cyclopaedia  " — "  Mr.  Knight,  the  publisher  and  prime 
mover  of  the  undertaking,  proudly  congratulated 
himself  at  its  close  upon  having  achieved  a  great 
literary  triumph  ;  he  had  also,  as  was  usual  in  his 
paeans,  to  mingle  in  his  song  the  melancholy  note  of 
one  suffering  under  the  consciousness  of  great  com 
mercial  loss."  The  melancholy  note  which  was  out 
of  harmony  with  my  pasans  was  almost  invariably 
connected  with  the  pressure  of  the  paper  duty  upon 
all  works  of  large  circulation  and  low  price.  With 
the  high  duty  of  threepence  in  the  pound,  it  re 
quired  a  steadfast  resolution  on  my  part  not  to  be 
beaten  by  excessive  taxation,  and  an  equal  hope  that 
the  duty  might  be  abolished  or  reduced,  to  prevent 
me  throwing  up  the  Cyclopaedia  in  despair.  In 
1836  the  duty  was  reduced  to  three  halfpence  in  the 
pound.  This  was  a  relief ;  but  it  was  not  commen 
surate  with  the  constant  falling  sale  to  which  I  have 
adverted.  I  gladly  suspend  "  the  melancholy  note  " 
and  turn  to  a  much  more  interesting  subject — the 


346  PASSAGES   OF  A   WOKKING   LIFE: 

reminiscence  of  some  of  the  most  valued  contri 
butors  to  the  Cyclopaedia,  whose  services  conferred 
upon  it  a  reputation  which  has  survived  during  all 
the  varied  changes  of  literature  and  science  that  we 
have  seen,  and  which  is  capable  of  a  constant  renewal 
of  its  pristine  vigour,  such  as  has  been  accomplished 
in  "  The  English  Cyclopaedia." 

The  author  of  "  The  Rehearsal "  has  made  merry 
with  the  notion  of  "  two  kings  of  Brentford  sitting 
on  one  throne,  smelling  to  one  nosegay."  If  Mr. 
Long  and  myself  had  persevered  for  more  than  a  few 
months  in  the  attempt  to  divide  the  editorial  duties 
connected  with  the  "  Penny  Cyclopaedia "  we  might 
possibly  have  been  presented  to  the  world  in  this 
ludicrous  attitude.  As  it  was,  I  very  soon  most 
gladly  resigned  the  reins  into  the  hands  of  one  who 
managed  his  team  with  consummate  skill  during 
many  years.  For  such  a  work  as  the  Cyclopaedia  a 
thoroughly  competent  Editor  was  indispensable.  He 
must  combine  the  moral  qualities  of  unwearied 
industry  and  undeviating  punctuality,  with  the 
firmness  which  is  best  supported  by  courtesy  and 
kindness.  I  have  heard  that  a  man  of  letters 
who  was  rather  raw,  laid  down  as  a  maxim  for  his 
editorial  guidance  that  he  must  be  polite  to  his 
contributors,  but  by  n,o  means  familiar.  Mr.  Long's 
contributors  gathered  round  him  as  friends.  On  his 
intellectual  qualities  it  is  unnecessary  for  me  to 
dilate.  Lord  Brougham,  in  his  Address  to  the  Asso 
ciation  for  the  Promotion  of  Social  Science  in  1857, 
referred  to  the  operations  of  the  Committees  of  the 
Useful  Knowledge  Society  as  an  example  of  "  the 
beneficial  effects  of  united  action."  In  the  "  Com 
panion  to  the  Almanac"  for  1858,  I  noticed,  as  I 


THE    SECOND   EPOCH.  347 

felt  it  my  duty  to  do,  the  somewhat  exaggerated 
estimate  which  the  Chairman  of  the  Society  had 
formed  of  the  results  of  this  united  action,  without 
making  the  slightest  reference  to  individual  actions. 
Speaking  more  especially  of  Mr.  Long's  labours  as 
Editor  of  the  Cyclopedia,  and  incidentally  alluding 
to  my  own  in  connection  with  the  "  Penny  Maga 
zine  "  and  other  works,  I  said — "  That  the  Society 
presented  many  advantages  as  a  base  of  operations 
is  unquestionable.  It  had  the  prestige  of  great 
names  connected  with  it.  Its  members  were  of  high 
intelligence  and  various  learning ;  they  were  in 
dustrious  ;  and,  what  was  of  equal  importance,  they 
confided  in  their  editors.  Had  this  confidence  not 
existed,  the  periodical  works  could  not  have  gone 
on  a  single  month.  They  would  have  broken  down 
under  a  divided  responsibility,  and  have  been  suffo 
cated  in  the  red-tapeism  of  what  Lord  Brougham 
described  as  '  a  vigilant  superintendence  over  the 
style,  so  that  errors  in  composition  and  offences 
against  correct,  and  even  severe,  taste  were  sure  to 
be  corrected,' — always  provided  that  the  editors  had 
any  reliance  upon  the  correct,  and  even  severe,  taste 
of  the  correctors.  That  'the  great  number  of  our 
members '  produced  even  these  minor  results  is  a 
figure  of  speech.  There  were  a  few  working  mem 
bers,  as  there  are  in  every  association,  who  were 
valuable  referees ;  but  that  the  Society,  as  a  body, 
was  the  moving  power  which  enabled  it  to  publish 
for  twenty  years  'with  unbroken  regularity/  we 
humbly  beg  to  say  is  a  continuance  of  a  delusion 
which  was  not  entertained  by  those  members  who 
were  content  to  aid  in  doing  what  they  thought  a 
work  of  public  utility,  without  attempting  to  shut 


348  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE: 

their  eyes  to  what  had  been  accomplished,  during 
many  years,  by  editorial  responsibility." 

In  the  sixth  chapter,  I  have  incidentally  men 
tioned  several  of  the  earlier  members  of  the  Useful 
Knowledge  Committee  as  contributors  to  the  Cyclo 
pedia.  Upon  looking  over  the  general  list  of  the 
contributors  to  this  work  during  the  many  years 
of  its  publication,  I  cannot  but  regard  it  as  most 
fortunate  that  a  rule,  which  was  attempted  to  be 
established  in  the  first  stages  of  the  Society,  soon 
came  to  be  held  as  perfectly  impracticable.  This 
rule,  to  which  Lord  Brougham  gave  the  name  of 
the  Self-denying  Ordinance,  was  in  effect  that  no 
member  of  the  Committee  should  be  paid  for  his 
writings.  It  was  perhaps  desirable  that  such  a  rule 
should  have  existed  at  the  origin  of  the  Society, 
when  it  was  considered  that  public  subscriptions 
would  be  necessary  for  its  maintenance.  But  when 
it  was  found  that  during  five  years  this  source  of 
revenue  had  only  yielded  to  the  Society  a  clear 
annual  sum  of  12o£.,  and  that  its  publications  might 
be  carried  on  upon  the  commercial  principle  alone, 
and  afford  a  profit  partly  to  the  Society  and  partly 
to  its  publishers,  it  would  have  been  the  extreme 
of  false  delicacy  to  deny  to  the  Editor  of  the  Cyclo 
paedia,  especially,  the  services  of  some  of  the  best 
contributors  he  could  anywhere  find.  The  time  was 
past  when  the  highest  in  rank,  as  well  as  the  most 
eminent  in  literature  or  science,  would  think  it  a 
degradation  to  be  paid  for  their  writings.  And 
thus,  whether  members  of  our  Committee  or  other 
wise,  every  writer  in  the  Cyclopaedia  was  paid  at 
a  fixed  rate,  whose  aggregate  at  the  end  of  the  work 
had  amounted  to  the  large  sum  I  have  previously 


THE    SECOND    EPOCH.  349 

stated.  Standing,  therefore,  upon  the  same  principle 
as  regulated  the  pecuniary  arrangements  with  other 
contributors — the  only  principle  upon  which  the  re 
lations  of  author  and  publisher  can  be  harmoniously 
maintained — I  shall  not  attempt  to  separate  the  two 
classes  in  referring  with  necessary  brevity  to  the 
chief  supporters  of  this  undertaking  in  the  character 
of  writers. 

First  in  importance  of  the  great  departments  of 
the  "  Cyclopaedia,"  may  be  reckoned  that  of  mathe 
matical  and  physical  science.  Upon  Professor 
De  Morgan  rested  its  heaviest  labours.  It  was  es 
sential  that  one  mind  should  have  the  almost 
undivided  charge  of  Mathematics,  considering  that, 
the  order  of  the  articles  being  alphabetical,  the 
relation  of  one  portion  of  a  subject  to  the  other 
had  constantly  to  be  regarded  so  as  to  render  the 
whole  series  of  articles  complete  and  harmonious. 
Thus  this  collection  of  mathematical  papers,  when 
duly  arranged  by  their  author  according  to  his  own 
views,  have  been  constantly  referred  to  in  his  classes 
at  University  College.  Astronomy  necessarily  formed 
a  portion  of  this  division,  and  to  Professor  De 
Morgan  are  due  the  accuracy  and  completeness  of 
the  general  articles  on  this  subject.  There  were 
special  papers  on  this  branch  of  science  by  other 
contributors.  In  speaking  of  the  series  on  astro 
nomical  instruments,  by  the  Rev.  Richard  Sheep 
shanks  (who  became  a  member  of  the  committee 
soon  after  the  first  publication  of  the  Cyclopaedia), 
I  cannot  forbear  to  express  the  admiration  I  always 
felt  for  this  distinguished  man.  There  was  a  breadth 
in  his  understanding  which  carried  him  beyond  the 
range  of  the  minute  and  laborious  scientific  opera- 


350  PASSAGES   OF    A    WORKING    LIFE: 

tions  to  which  he  devoted  the  greater  part  of  his 
time.  He  was  a  liberal  thinker  in  political  matters, 
although  never  publicly  meddling  with  the  great 
questions  whose  triumphs  he  rejoiced  to  behold. 
His  conversation  on  matters  of  history  and  literature 
always  presented  the  evidence  of  sound  thought 
and  rich  learning.  He  was  ready  to  assist  in 
any  well-considered  project  of  utility  with  a  self- 
devotion  quite  untainted  by  any  desire  of  profit 
or  distinction.  The  same  generous  spirit  seems  to 
have  been  a  family  inheritance,  for  it  was  his  brother 
John,  who,  in  1856,  presented  to  the  nation  his 
noble  collection  of  pictures  by  British  artists. 

Lord  Brougham  used  to  point  with  a  just  pride  to 
the  one  contribution  of  the  Astronomer-Royal  to  the 
"  Penny  Cyclopaedia,"  as  a  notable  example  of  the 
value  of  popular  literature  in  the  eyes  of  one  of  the 
most  eminent  scientific  men  of  his  day.  Mr.  Airy's 
paper  on  Gravitation  is  indeed  a  masterpiece  of  lucid 
exposition  without  the  employment  of  mathematical 
formulae. 

I  turn  to  the  applications  of  science  to  the  arts. 
First  in  importance  in  the  past  and  in  the  present 
state  of  civilisation  is  Agriculture.  I  have  a  note 
before  me,  dated  February  25th,  1833,  from  the  Rev. 
William  Lewis  Rham,  whom  I  had  slightly  known 
during  my  Windsor  experience  as  the  Vicar  of  Wink- 
field,  in  Berkshire.  He  therein  proposes,  upon  the 
suggestion  of  his  friend,  Mr.  Jardine,  to  write  for  the 
"  Penny  Cyclopaedia,"  "  as  affording  a  considerable 
variety  of  subjects,  and  especially  those  connected 
with  agriculture,  to  which  I  have  paid  some  atten 
tion,  and  in  which  I  have  some  practical  experience." 
This  proposition  was  gladly  closed  with  ;  for  it  was 
not  easy  then  to  find  one  of  "  practical  experience  " 
in  agriculture  who  had  the  power  of  expressing  his 


THE    SECOND   EPOCH.  351 

ideas  in  a  style  which  should  unite  brevity  with  clear 
ness,  and  by  its  popular  qualities  turn  aside  the  country 
gentleman  and  the  cultivator  from  their  ordinary 
contempt  of  "  book-farming."  Mr.  Rham  immediately 
commenced  that  series  of  papers  in  the  "  Penny 
Cyclopaedia/'  which  were  subsequently  collected  in  a 
volume  entitled  "  The  Dictionary  of  the  Farm."  He 
wrote  the  first  of  these  articles  at  the  beginning  of 
1833.  He  wrote  the  last  of  the  series,  "  Yorkshire 
Husbandry,"  in  1843,  only  a  few  weeks  before  his 
death. 


CHAPTEK  XYII. 

O  attempt  the  most  general  view  of  the 
condition  of  manufactures  and  machinery 
during  the  progress  of  the  "  Penny  Cyclo 
paedia/' — especially  bearing  in  mind  the 
vast  changes  that  would  grow  out  of  the  removal  of 
the  fiscal  burthens  upon  industry,  and  the  gradual 
development  of  Free  Trade — would  be  far  beyond  the 
scope  of  these  incidental  glances  at  a  brighter  future. 
I  have  touched  very  lightly  upon  the  subject  in  the 
fourth  and  fifth  chapters  of  this  volume.  Of  the 
contributors  to  this  department  of  the  "  Cyclopedia," 
I  may  mention  an  old  friend  who  has  worked  with 
me  during  many  years  upon  matters  of  a  cognate 
character,  Mr.  George  Dodd.  His  careful  observa 
tion  and  his  punctual  industry  made  him  then,  as  he 
still  continues  to  be,  one  of  the  most  useful  con 
tributors  to  serial  works.  Furnishing  not  so  much 
in  quantity,  but  what  he  did  always  being  of  signal 
value,  was  Mr.  Edward  Cowper.  As  an  inventor, 
Mr.  Cowper  was  to  me  peculiarly  interesting,  as 
being  connected  with  those  simplifications  of  the 
printing  machine  which  brought  it  into  common 
use.  He  felt  that  it  was  his  great  pride  to  have 
rendered  what  was  originally  a  complicated  instru 
ment,  one  capable  of  adaptation  to  the  purposes  of 


THE   SECOND   EPOCH.  353 

rapid  and  cheap  book -printing,  and  of  producing  such 
illustrated  works  as  the  "  Penny  Magazine  "  and  the 
"  Penny  Cyclopaedia."  In  an  examination  before  a 
Committee  of  the  House  of  Commons,  he  said  :  "  The 
ease  with  which  the  principles  and  illustrations  of 
Art  might  be  diffused,  I  think  is  so  obvious  that  it 
is  hardly  necessary  to  say  a  word  about  it.  Here 
you  may  see  it  exemplified  in  the  '  Penny  Maga 
zine.'  Such  works  as  this  could  not  have  existed 
without  the  printing-machine."  Amongst  the  lead 
ing  questions  or  observations  by  the  Committee 
was  this :  "In  fact  the  mechanic  and  the  peasant 
in  the  most  remote  districts  of  the  country,  have 
now  an  opportunity  of  seeing  tolerably  correct  out 
lines  of  form  which  they  never  could  behold  be 
fore  ?"  His  answer  was,  "  Exactly  ;  and  literally  at 
the  price  they  used  to  give  for  a  song."  When  asked 
"  Is  there  not,  therefore,  a  greater  chance  of  calling 
genius  into  activity  ? "  he  answered,  "  Yes  ;  not 
merely  by  these  books  creating  an  artist  here  and 
there,  but  by  the  general  elevation  of  the  taste  of 
the  public."  Beyond  what  Mr.  Cowper  so  justly 
stated  with  regard  to  our  own  country,  I  may  add, 
that  at  this  period,  1836,  the  "  Penny  Magazine  " 
was  producing  a  revolution  in  popular  Art  through 
out  the  world.  Stereotype  casts  of  its  best  cuts  were 
supplied  by  me  for  the  illustration  of  publications  of 
a  similar  character,  which  appeared  in  eleven  different 
languages  and  countries.  Many  interesting  considera 
tions  are  involved  in  the  mere  recital  of  the  names 
of  these  countries  :  Germany — France — Holland — 
Livonia  (in  Russian  and  German) — Bohemia  (Scla 
vonic) — Italy — Ionian  Islands  (modern  Greek)  — 
Sweden — Norway — Spanish  America— the  Brazils. 


354=  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING  LIFE: 

The  entire  work  was  also  reprinted  in  the  United 
States  from  plates  sent  from  this  country.  I  was 
not  only  bound  to  be  grateful  to  Mr.  Cowper  for  his 
evidence,  but  I  had  long  entertained  the  highest 
respect  for  the  wide  range  of  his  information,  and 
the  simplicity  of  his  character.  In  his  latter  years 
he  became  Professor  of  Mechanics  and  Manufacturing 
Arts  at  King's  College.  His  mode  of  teaching  was 
singularly  lucid,  never  trusting  to  mere  descriptions 
of  machinery,  so  difficult  to  understand,  but  illus 
trating  what  he  had  to  say  by  models  constructed 
with  a  most  minute  ingenuity.  He  did  not  consider 
it  beneath  the  dignity  of  a  Professor  to  superintend 
daily,  and  actually  to  work  without  assistance,  a 
machine  of  his  invention,  at  the  blacking  manu 
factory  of  Messrs.  Day  and  Martin,  for  secretly  print 
ing  the  labels  of  their  bottles  in  a  manner  which 
would  preclude  imitation.  It  was  long  before  the 
Arts  that  had  been  effectually  used  for  preventing 
the  forgery  of  blacking  labels,  were  allowed  to  inter 
fere  with  the  flourishing  manufacture  of  forged  bank 
notes. 

Dr.  Andrew  Ure  was  a  contributor  to  this  depart 
ment  of  the  "  Cyclopaedia."  In  1835,  I  published 
his  very  interesting  volume  on  "  The  Philosophy  of 
Manufactures  ; "  and  in  1836,  his  larger  work  on 
"  The  Cotton  Manufacture  of  Great  Britain  compared 
with  other  Countries."  He  was  then  analytical  che 
mist  to  the  Board  of  Customs.  There  were  many 
special  articles  on  Manufactures  and  Machinery,  by 
men  conversant  with  particular  branches.  Amongst 
various  names,  there  is  one  which  stands  out  promi 
nent,  although  processes  and  mechanical  principles 
were  not  exactly  in  his  line.  Edwin  Norris  has  won 


THE   SECOND   EPOCH.  355 

his  distinguished  position  and  his  high  reputation  by 
his  labours  as  a  philological  and  ethnological  writer. 
In  the  "Companion  to  the  Almanac  "  for  1830,  he  fur 
nished  a  striking  example  of  the  range  and  accuracy  of 
his  peculiar  knowledge,  in  a  most  complete  explanation 
of  "  The  Eras  of  Ancient  and  Modern  Times,  and  of 
various  Countries."  He  still  renders  me  the  kind 
ness  of  supplying  to  the  "  British  Almanac"  the  brief 
notices  under  each  month  of  the  Hebrew  Calendar 
and  the  Mohammedan  Calendar.  I  knew  him  with 
some  degree  of  intimacy,  upon  which  I  look  back 
with  pleasure,  in  the  years  before  his  great  know 
ledge  of  languages  gave  him  the  high  appointment 
of  Secretary  to  the  Royal  Asiatic  Society,  and  the 
onerous  responsibility  of  translator  to  the  Foreign 
Office.  In  our  earliest  intercourse,  he  not  only  won 
my  regard  by  his  intellectual  and  moral  qualities,  but 
to  me  he  was  especially  interesting  as  the  son  of  a 
newspaper  proprietor  at  Taunton.  He  had  acquired 
the  practical  knowledge  of  a  printer  ;  but,  passionately 
fond  of  travelling,  and  devoted  to  studies  whose  use 
fulness  was  not  exactly  to  be  manifested  in  provincial 
journalism,  he  went  to  the  continent  as  a  private 
tutor,  and  remained  abroad  several  years.  In  his 
pedestrian  tours  from  city  to  city  his  remittances 
from  home  sometimes  failed  to  reach  him.  He  had 
resources  in  himself  which  were  ever  ready  to  secure 
his  independence  as  a  citizen  of  the  world.  Arriving 
at  a  certain  town,  he  found  himself  almost  penniless. 
Applying  to  the  principal  printer,  he  solicits  employ 
ment  as  a  compositor.  He  states  his  knowledge  of 
foreign  languages.  Work  is  slack,  and  the  young 
linguist  is  about  to  look  further.  "  Stop  ! "  says  the 
typographical  successor  of  the  Stephenses  (for  I 


356  PASSAGES    OF   A   WORKING   LIFE! 

believe  the  town  was  Geneva).  "  Stop  !  I  have  been 
printing  a  Hebrew  Bible,  of  which  a  little  is  done  ; 
but  I  can  find  nobody  here  to  finish  it.  Can  you 
•undertake  the  job  and  go  through  with  it?"  The 
job  was  undertaken,  and  it  was  completed.  I  need 
give  no  better  illustration  of  that  force  of  character 
which,  in  the  instance  of  Mr.  Norris,  was  one  of 
many  manifestations  of  that  power  which  we  are 
accustomed  to  call  Genius. 

In  the  department  of  the  Fine  Arts,  Mr.  Eastlake 
(now  Sir  Charles)  contributed  a  few  valuable  papers 
— such  as  Basso  E-ilievo.  Sir  Edmund  Head  also 
wrote  on  painting,  as  did  my  old  friend  J.  P.  Davis. 
Mr.  R.  N.  Wornum  (now  Keeper  of  the  National 
Gallery)  gave  to  the  Cyclopaedia  the  advantage  of 
his  almost  unequalled  knowledge  of  the  general 
history  and  character  of  Schools  of  Art,  and  of  the 
lives  of  the  great  painters.  And  here  I  may  take 
occasion  to  mention — not  only  with  reference  to  the 
biographies  of  artists,  but  of  those  of  the  eminent  in 
Science,  in  Literature,  in  Statesmanship,  in  Theo 
logy,  in  Law — that  the  plan  of  the  "  Penny  Cyclo 
paedia"  being  such  as  to  forbid  the  introduction  of 
any  living  person,  was  necessarily  limited  and  im 
perfect.  Under  the  superintendence  of  the  Useful 
Knowledge  Society,  it  would  have  been  very  difficult, 
if  not  impossible,  to  have  widened  the  biographical 
circle,  so  as  to  include  many  of  those  who  were  daily 
coming  into  contact  with  members  of  its  committee 
in  the  friendships  or  the  rivalries  of  Politics  or 
letters.  When  the  superintendence  of  the  Society 
had  ceased,  the  "  English  Cyclopaedia "  was  free  to 
take  a  wider  range.  It  was  with  considerable  re 
luctance  that,  as  the  conductor  of  the  enlarged  work, 


THE    SECOND    EPOCH.  357 

I  decided  upon  the  introduction  of  the  names  of 
living  persons,  British  and  Foreign.  (There  are, 
doubtless,  grave  objections  to  such  a  course  ;  but  the 
advantages,  looking  at  them  strictly  in  the  literary 
point  of  view,  are  very  manifest.  A  Cyclopaedia  that 
deals  only  with  those  of  whom  it  may  speak  with 
the  absolute  freedom  of  the  "  honest  chronicler " 
who  is  to  keep  the  honour  of  the  dead  from  corrup 
tion,  must  be,  if  not  half  a  century,  at  least  three  or 
four  decades  behind  the  wants  of  the  existing  gene 
ration.  This  is  an  era  in  no  respects  more  remark 
able  than  for  the  long  lives  of  many  eminent  men. 
Lord  Lyndhurst,  for  example,  died  in  1863,  at  the 
age  of  ninety-one.  Because  his  place  was  not  in  the 
necrology  of  the  century  till  that  year,  is  the  histo 
rical  student  to  learn  nothing  from  a  biographical 
dictionary  of  the  John  Singleton  Copley,  who  was 
counsel  for  Watson  and  Thistlewood  in  1817? 
William  Mulready  died  in  1863,  at  the  age  of 
seventy-eight.  The  young  Irishman  was  a  student 
of  the  Royal  Academy  in  1801.  He  was  a  Royal 
Academician  in  1816.  Was  the  most  successful  rival 
of  Wilkie  not  to  be  noticed  in  a  popular  biography 
whilst  his  works  were  still  the  theme  of  admiration, 
and  the  old  man  could  still  look  critically,  but  gene 
rously,  upon  the  productions  of  celebrated  artists 
who  were  unborn,  or  were  mere  boys,  when  he  was 
in  the  zenith  of  his  fame  ?  Difficulties  in  such  an 
undertaking  there  unquestionably  were  ;  but  these 
were  to  be  overcome  by  obtaining,  wherever  possible, 
from  living  persons  themselves  authentic  materials  ; 
and  above  all,  by  avoiding  rash  inferences  and  hypo 
thetical  explanations. 

Photography,    in    spite    of  the   protests    of  land- 


358  PASSAGES   OF    A    WORKING    LIFE: 

scape  painters  and  portrait  painters,  has  taken  rank 
amongst  the  Fine  Arts.  Its  imperfect  beginnings 
only  could  have  been  noticed  in  the  "  Penny  Cyclo 
paedia."  When  Arago,  in  1839,  communicated  to  the 
French  Academy  of  Sciences  that  Daguerre  had  dis 
covered  a  process  by  which  objects  could  be  faithfully 
represented  by  other  agencies  than  the  hand  of  man, 
the  world  was  at  first  incredulous,  as  if  an  attempt 
had  been  made  to  revive  the  middle-age  miracles. 
Englishmen  came  home  from  Paris  with  dim  repre 
sentations  of  buildings,  and  hideous  copies  of  their 
own  features,  sun-painted  on  metal.  Such  were  the 
first  Daguerreotypes.  Mr.  Fox  Talbot,  who  had  been 
working  out  this  discovery  at  the  same  period  as 
Daguerre,  soon  produced  his  Talbotypes  on  paper, 
and,  in  1841,  described  his  process  to  the  Society  of 
Arts.  But,  as  yet,  photographic  portraits  and  land 
scapes  were  regarded  as  mere  curiosities.  In  twenty 
years  photography  was  to  bestow  an  amount  of  pleasure 
upon  every  class  of  society  which  had  never  been 
attained  in  any  age  by  the  imitative  arts.  It  may 
not  be  too  much  to  regard  it  as  one  of  the  special 
blessings  of  a  beneficent  Providence,  that,  at  a  period 
when  steam  navigation  has  dispersed  the  European 
races  over  the  most  distant  regions  of  the  habitable 
globe,  there  should  have  sprung  up  an  invention 
which  brings  into  the  dwelling  of  the  colonizer, 
whether  a  mansion  or  a  cabin,  the  very  scenes  of 
the  home  he  has  left,  and  the  images  of  the  loved 
ones  from  whom  he  is  separated. 

This  leads  me  briefly  to  advert  to  the  Geographical 
department  of  the  "Penny  Cyclopaedia."  This  sec 
tion  also  stopped  short  in  1843,  in  tracing  that 
inarch  of  English  adventure  which  had  made  new 


THE    SECOND    EPOCH.  359 

nations  in  the  days  of  Elizabeth,  but  which  had  not 
yet  accomplished  the  wonderful  development  of  the 
Australian  colonies  during  the  reign  of  Victoria. 
There  was  a  great  deal  to  be  done  by  the  encyclopae 
dist  of  the  next  twenty  years.  But  what  was  done 
by  us,  especially  in  the  department  of  Physical 
Geography,  was  of  a  character  very  different  from 
the  matter  that  had  previously  occupied  the  most 
elaborate  geographical  works.  The  chief  contributor 
was  Mr.  William  Wittich,  who  became  Teacher  of 
German  at  University  College.  I  have  heard  Mr. 
Long  declare,  that  he  considered  Mr.  Wittich  as  the 
father  of  descriptive  geography  in  this  country.  Of 
many  other  contributors  to  the  geographical  depart 
ment,  I  must  be  content  to  mention  the  names  of  Sir 
Francis  Beaufort,  Sir  J.  F.  Davis,  Colonel  Jackson,  Mr. 
Smith,  Secretary  of  King's  College,  and  Mr.  Means. 
Karl  Ritter,  the  celebrated  professor  at  Berlin,  wrote 
the  important  article  "  Asia."  Of  Andre'  Vieusseux 
and  of  William  Weir,  whose  contributions  were  exten 
sive,  I  shall  have  subsequently  to  speak. 

In  the  Natural  History  division  of  the  Cyclopaedia, 
I  must  especially  mention  Mr.  William  John  Broderip, 
who  contributed  nearly  all  the  Zoological  articles 
of  the  entire  work.  No  more  remarkable  example 
could  have  been  presented  of  a  man  zealously  dis 
charging  responsible  official  duties,  and  finding  his 
best  recreation  in  scientific  pursuits,  than  Mr.  Bro 
derip.  He  was  for  thirty-four  years  one  of  the  most 
industrious  and  upright  Police  Magistrates  of  the 
Metropolis.  In  writing  a  brief  memoir  of  this 
learned  and  at  the  same  time  entertaining  naturalist, 
I  have  said  :  "  His  articles  in  the  '  Cyclopaedia '  are 
models  of  scientific  exactness  and  popular  attrac- 
16 


360  PASSAGES   OF   A  WORKING   LIFE: 

tion ;  and  whilst  they  have  instructed  and  delighted 
thousands  of  readers,  have  won  the  suffrages  of  the 
most  fastidious,  even  amongst  those  who  are  slow  to 
believe  that  the  solid  and  the  amusing  have  no  neces 
sary  antagonism."  In  the  section  of  Geology,  Mr.  John 
Phillips,  Professor  of  that  science  in  King's  College, 
was  a  most  valuable  contributor.  In  that  of  Botany, 
Dr.  Lindley  wrote  all  the  articles  up  to  the  letter  R. 
Dr.  Edwin  Lankester,  who  had  studied  under  Dr. 
Lindley  at  University  College,  gave  also  his  valuable 
assistance  to  the  original  work,  and  subsequently 
edited  the  Natural  History  Division  of  its  successor. 
In  Law  and  Jurisprudence,  the  "Penny  Cyclopaedia " 
was  a  most  complete  repository  of  information,  histo 
rical  and  practical.  The  constitution  of  the  Useful 
Knowledge  Society,  of  which  many  eminent  lawyers 
were  members,  gave  an  authority  to  its  legal  articles 
even  before  the  names  of  its  contributors  were  given 
to  the  world.  As  there  were  also  eminent  physicians 
and  surgeons,  the  same  prestige  attached  to  its  articles 
on  Medical  Science.  A  mere  catalogue  of  the  names 
of  these  professional  men  would  scarcely  be  interest 
ing,  unless  I  were  to  trace  the  career  of  some  who 
were  only  slightly  known  at  the  period  of  their  early 
contributions,  but  who  have  subsequently  risen  into 
high  reputation.  Such,  amongst  the  medical  contri 
butors,  was  the  late  Dr.  Baley,  whose  useful  life  was 
so  grievously  cut  short  by  a  railway  accident ;  such 
was  Mr.  J.  Paget,  the  distinguished  surgeon ;  such, 
Mr.  John  Simon,  who,  as  the  medical  officer  of  the 
General  Board  of  Health,  has  accomplished  so  much 
for  sanitary  reform.  Dr.  Robert  Dickson,  whose 
benevolence  is  as  conspicuous  as  his  knowledge, 
contributed  all  the  articles  on  Materia  Medica.  Nor 


THE    SECOND    EPOCH.  361 

must  I  omit  Dr.  Southwood  Smith,  who  supplied 
many  of  the  articles  on  Anatomy,  Medicine,  and 
Physiology.  I  was  his  publisher  also  of  that  inte 
resting  popular  work,  "  The  Philosophy  of  Health." 
Now  that  his  most  useful  life  has  closed,  I  may 
mention  a  circumstance  which  I  should  have  hesi 
tated  previously  .to  print.  Dr.  Smith's  book,  "  The 
Use  of  the  Dead  to  the  Living,"  chiefly  led  to  the 
passing  of  the  Anatomy  Act,  by  which  an  end  was 
put  to  the  necessity  of  the  hateful  tribe  of  Resur 
rection  Men,  and  to  such  atrocities  as  those  which 
had  been  committed  in  Edinburgh  and  London, 
where  adults  and  children  had  been  systematically 
murdered  by  the  vampires  of  modern  times,  who 
sold  their  bodies  to  the  anatomical  schools.  Dr. 
Southwood  Smith  had  been  the  intimate  friend  of 
Jeremy  Bentham.  It  was  the  wish  of  the  venerable 
philosopher  that  his  body  should  be  dissected,  and 
for  that  purpose  he  left  it  to  the  enlightened  phy 
sician  who  had  been  his  attendant  at  the  time  of  his 
death.  Having  called  upon  Dr.  Smith  at  his  house  in 
the  city,  as  I  was  going  away  he  said,  in  his  quiet 
manner,  "  Would  you  like  to  see  Bentham?"  I  could 
not  quite  comprehend  him ;  but  leading  the  way 
into  his  hall,  he  unlocked,  with  a  small  key  that 
hung  to  his  watch-chain,  a  mahogany  case,  some 
thing  like  the  sedan  chair  of  a  past  generation. 
Behind  an  inner  covering  of  plate-glass  sat  the 
figure  of  the  old  jurist  in  the  identical  clothes 
which  he  had  worn  living ;  a  waxen  face,  round 
which  was  clustering  the  white  hair,  was  covered 
with  his  well-known  broad-brimmed  hat,  and  he 
leant  on  the  trusty  stick  with  which  he  had  so 
often  paced  the  Green  Park.  I  long  stood  absorbed 


362  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE: 

in  many  thoughts  of  the  great  man's  career.  Dr. 
Smith  withdrew  the  glass,  opened  the  few  buttons  of 
the  waistcoat,  and  then  showed  the  skeleton,  which 
preached  the  same  lesson  to  the  pride  of  human 
wisdom  as  the  skull  of  "  poor  Yorick  "  did  to  the 
gibes  that  were  wont  "  to  set  the  table  in  a  roar." 

Collected  for  the  purpose  of  separate  publication 
in  the  remodelled  "  English  Cyclopaedia,"  it  was 
found  that  the  biographical  articles  of  the  original 
work  constituted  its  largest  division.  It  may,  there 
fore,  be  concluded  that  in  this  place  I  can  only 
notice  the  leading  features  of  that  division,  and  a  few 
only  of  its  contributors.  Those  who  wrote  the  arti 
cles  on  history  and  literature,  ancient  and  modern, 
furnished,  for  the  most  part,  the  series  of  biographies. 
It  may  be  sufficient  to  point  to  articles  by  Thomas 
Hewitt  Key,  George  Cornewall  Lewis,  George  Long, 
Leonard  Schmitz,  Dr.  Donaldson,  Philip  Smith,  and 
William  Smith,  to  show  how  completely  these  Lives 
were  calculated  to  supersede  the  inaccurate  sciolisms 
of  Lempriere  and  similar  manufacturers  of  Classical 
Dictionaries.  Nor  is  it  necessary  that  I  should 
particularly  specify  those  who  brought  their  histo 
rical  and  literary  knowledge  to  build  up  the  com 
pact,  but  yet  full,  Biographia  Britannica,  which  our 
work  presents,  even  without  the  subsequent  addition 
of  living  names.  The  writers  of  these  articles  are 
generally  well  known  in  their  more  extended  repu 
tations  as  authors  of  separate  works.  But  there 
was  a  class  of  writers  whom  Mr.  Long  had  the  good 
fortune  to  collect  around  him,  who  had  previously 
added  little  to  the  stores  of  English  learning.  I 
allude  to  the  eminent  foreigners  who  wrote  in  the 
"  Cyclopedia,"  some  in  our  language,  others  in  their 


THE    SECOND    EPOCH.  363 

own.  The  editorial  care  either  corrected-  the  foreign 
idioms — sometimes  peeping  out  of  their  English 
compositions — or  procured  accurate  translations  of 
the  French,  Italian,  German,  Spanish,  and  Portu 
guese,  in  which  some  wrote.  One  foreigner  whose 
English  required  little  correction,  if  any,  was  Andre* 
Vieusseux.  I  had  been  intimate  with  this  most 
amiable  and  accomplished  man  from  the  time  when 
he  wrote  in  the  "  Quarterly  Magazine."  I  had  pub 
lished,  in  1824,  his  delightful  work,  "  Italy  and 
the  Italians."  My  pleasant  and  improving  inter 
course  with  him  was  renewed  when  he  became  one 
of  the  most  industrious  contributors  to  the  "  Cyclo 
paedia."  His  life  had  been  a  varied  and  eventful 
one.  As  a  youth  he  had  seen  the  bloody  course  of 
revolution  in  Naples,  when  it  was  doubtful  which 
was  most  to  be  hated — monarchical  oppression  or 
democratic  fury.  He  had  fought  in  the  Peninsular 
War,  as  an  officer  in  one  of  the  foreign  legions. 
After  the  peace,  he  had  settled  in  England  upon  a 
small  independence,  to  which  he  was  enabled  to 
add  by  literary  labour.  His  conscientious  devotion 
to  the  right  performance  of  whatever  he  undertook, 
his  large  experience,  and  his  correct  taste,  made  him 
one  of  our  most  valuable  coadjutors.  In  German 
literature,  Dr.  Leonard  Schmitz  was  as  useful  as  in 
classical.  Pascual  de  Gayangos,  who  had  married  an 
English  lady,  also  wrote  fluently  in  our  language 
during  his  residence  amongst  us.  His  perfect  ac 
quaintance  with  Arabic  gave  him  a  mastery  over  the 
general  and  literary  history  of  Spain  during  the 
mediaeval  period,  which  few  of  his  countrymen  have 
attained.  His  biographies  in  the  "  Cyclopaedia  " — 
Spanish  and  Oriental — are,  therefore,  particularly 


364  PASSAGES   OF    A    WORKING   LIFE: 

valuable.  Another  great  Oriental  scholar,  Frederick 
Augustus  Rosen,  was  the  Sanskrit  Professor  in 
University  College.  In  the  "  Penny  Cyclopedia " 
he  wrote  all  the  articles  on  Oriental  literature  from 
"Abbasides"  to  "  Ethiopian  Language."  His  labours 
were  terminated  by  his  sudden  death  in  1837,  at 
the  age  of  thirty-two.  This  distinguished  native  of 
Hanover  acquired  in  England  a  host  of  friends,  whose 
admiration  he  had  won  by  his  high  intellectual  at 
tainments,  and  whose  love  was  commanded  by  his 
gentle  manners  and  kind  heart.  Count  Krasinski 
was  one  of  the  Polish  exiles  in  England  to  whom 
literature  had  become  the  only  means  of  support. 
He  came  here  on  a  diplomatic  mission,  in  1830,  from 
the  revolutionary  government,  of  which  Prince  Czar- 
toryski  was  president.  In  1831,  when  the  hope  of 
Polish  independence  was  again  crushed,  he  dwelt 
among  us  a  penniless  fugitive,  until  his  death  in 
1855.  His  contributions  to  the  "  Penny  Cyclopaedia" 
were  on  the  Sclavonian  history  and  literature. 

I  have  passed  over  Music,  in  referring  to  the  de 
partment  of  Fine  Arts,  that  I  may  more  particularly, 
notice  the  amount  of  musical  taste  and  knowledge 
amongst  us  twenty  years  ago.  Mr.  William  Ayrton 
could  scarcely,  during  the  time  I  knew  him,  be  called 
a  Professor  of  Music,  although  some  few  years  pre 
vious  the  opera  had  been  under  his  management.  A 
man  of  education,  he  moved  in  the  best  society ; 
whilst  his  ability  as  a  writer,  combined  with  his 
extensive  musical  knowledge,  fitted  him  to  contribute 
the  whole  series  of  musical  biographies  to  the 
"  Penny  Cyclopaedia."  He  had  previously  edited  for 
me  a  work  which,  I  may  flatter  myself,  contributed 
something  to  that  great  change  which  has  made  the 


THE   SECOND    EPOCH.  365 

English  of  the  reign  of  Queen  Victoria  as  musical  a 
people  as  their  ancestors  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  time. 
The  nioveable  types  used  in  the  "  Musical  Library  " 
furnished  the  means  of  producing  vocal  and  instru 
mental  music  from  the  best  masters,  in  weekly  sheets 
of  eight  pages,  sold  at  about  a  quarter  of  the  price  of 
the  ordinaiy  sheet  of  the  music  shops.  The  period 
was  then  only  beginning  when  an  idea  penetrated 
the  English  mind,  that  in  music,  as  in  the  other  Fine 
Arts,  anything  but  the  common-place  and  vulgar  could 
have  any  charms  for  the  bulk  of  the  people.  Pro 
found  philosophers  believed  that  nothing  else  could 
please,  theatrical  managers  affirmed  that  nothing  else 
would  draw.  The  great  and  fashionable  firmly 
relied  upon  the  unchangeableness  of  the  opinion — 
though  a  hundred  and  twenty  years  old — of  Isaac 
Bickerstaff,  who  says  :  "  In  Italy,  nothing  is  more 
frequent  than  to  hear  a  cobbler  working  to  an  opera 
tune  ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  our  honest  countrymen 
have  so  little  an  inclination  to  music,  that  they  sel 
dom  begin  to  sing  till  they  are  drunk."  In  the 
"Penny  Magazine"  for  1834,  it  was  said:  "The 
theatres  and  other  public  places  have  administered 
to  bad  taste  :  little  or  nothing  except  trash  has  been 
open  to  the  people  ;  and  they  have  been  deemed 
barbarians  because  they  took  what  fell  in  their  way, 
and  showed  no  love  for  what  they  never  had  an 
opportunity  of  knowing.  We  trust,  however,  that, 
for  the  future,  good  music,  like  good  literature,  may 
be  made  accessible  to  all ;  and  that,  as  a  mode  of 
enlarging  the  cheap  enjoyments  of  a  poor  man's  life, 
even  every  village  school  in  the  kingdom  may  possess 
the  means  of  teaching  (as  they  are  taught  at  similar 
establishments  in  several  districts  of  Germany,  in 


366  PASSAGES    OF    A   WORKING    LIFE  : 

Bohemia,  and  even  in  the  snow-covered,  poverty- 
stricken  island  of  Iceland)  the  art  of  reading  musical 
notation  and  the  first  rudiments  of  music." 

I  have  traced  the  greatest  work  of  the  Useful 
Knowledge  Society  to  its  completion  at  the  end  of 
eleven  years.  Let  me  revert  to  its  opening  period, 
when  the  friends  of  Popular  Education  had  not  only 
to  build  up  the  walls  of  their  citadel,  but  to  work 
with  weapons  at  their  side.  When  the  "  Penny 
Magazine,"  during  two  years'  existence,  had  reached 
a  sale  quite  unprecedented  in  Popular  Literature, 
and  after  the  first  year's  publication,  with  marked 
success,  of  the  "Penny  Cyclopedia,"  a  series  of 
attacks,  as  unceasing  as  they  were  virulent,  were 
directed  against  the  Society  for  the  Diffusion  of 
Useful  Knowledge,  and  against  me,  especially,  as 
their  chief  instrument  in  the  fearful  revolution 
which  was  threatening  to  destroy  the  legitimate 
thrones  and  dominations  of  the  empire  of  books. 
The  Society  was  a  monopoly ;  the  "  Penny  Maga 
zine  "  was  "  a  glorious  humbug  upon  the  reading 
portion  of  the  operatives,"  for  it  was  nothing  more 
than  a  bookseller's  speculation,  which  "  brings  in 
Knight  some  thousands  per  annum ;"  the  idea  of  the 
"  Penny  Cyclopedia "  was  stolen  from  a  respectable 
man,  who  was  struggling  to  maintain  a  young  family, 
"  by  a  trader,  who,  because  he  has  the  name  of  the 
Society  painted  on  his  sign-board,  seems  to  think 
himself  entitled  to  throw  off  all  the  ordinary  re 
straints  to  which  fair  rivalry  in  trade  is  subject ;"  the 
writers  in  these  works  were  literary  drudges — obscure 
literary  drudges,  without  a  single  idea  in  their  heads, 
save  what  they  filch  from  the  British  Museum. 


THE    SECOND   EPOCH.  367 

Such  was  the  temper  in  which  the  "  New  Monthly 
Magazine  "  poured  out  the  vials  of  its  wrath  on  my 
devoted  head.  It  was  necessary  to  publish  a  few 
facts,  with  very  little  comment,  to  show  the  false 
hoods  and  absurdities  of  the  daily,  weekly,  and 
monthly  assaults  of  this  complexion.  That  was 
done,  with  the  sanction  of  the  Society,  in  the  "  Com 
panion  to  the  Almanac,"  in  December,  1833.  On 
the  15th  of  February,  1834,  I  published  No.  I.  of 
"  The  Printing  Machine,  a  Review  for  the  Many ;" 
and  therein,  in  an  article  entitled  "  The  Literary 
Newspapers,"  I  uttered,  perhaps  with  more  spirit 
than  prudence,  some  unpalatable  remonstrances 
against  the  systematic  hostility  of  the  two  journals 
which  I  described  as  "the  advanced  guard  of  the 
army  of  letters,  who  carry  small  baggage  on  their 
march."  The  attacks  soon  became  more  personal. 

Towards  the  end  of  that  February,  I  was  proposed 
as  a  member  of  the  "  Garrick  Club."  In  the  second 
week  of  March  a  very  dear  friend,  my  solicitor, 
Mr.  Thomas  Clarke,  came  to  me  to  say  that  the 
Committee  of  that  Club  were  hesitating  about  my 
election,  as  I  had  been  excluded  from  a  Club  which 
had  been  formed  out  of  members  of  the  "Literary 
Union,"  such  exclusion  involving  some  serious  impu 
tation  upon  my  character  and  conduct.  I  had  been 
a  member  of  the  "  Literary  Union "  for  three  or 
four  years.  Several  gentlemen  immediately  under 
took  to  ascertain  the  nature  of  the  charges  against 
me  ;  and  I  was  in  a  few  days  authorised  by  two  of 
these  friends  to  rest  the  vindication  of  my  character 
upon  the  ground  that  the  imputation  made  in  the 
Committee  of  the  "  Literary  Union  Club,"  appointed 
for  the  formation  of  a  New  Club,  was,  that  I  had 


368  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING    LIFE  I 

formerly  failed  in  business — and  dishonourably  failed 
— that  I  "had  made  a  bad  bankruptcy."  In  twenty- 
four  hours  I  had  possessed  myself  of  the  means  of 
my  vindication.  The  publication  of  an  indignant 
letter  addressed  by  me*  to  the  Committee,  accom 
panied  by  the  documents  which  they  had  refused  to 
look  at,  was  my  only  course.  That  paper  was  circu 
lated  by  me  to  a  limited  extent.  It  consisted  of 
letters  from  my  three  trustees,  a  London  printer,  a 
London  stationer,  and  a  banker  of  Windsor,  and  one 
also  from  the  solicitor  to  the  trustees.  They  were  to 
the  effect  that  my  suspension  of  payments  was  not  to 
be  attributed  in  the  slightest  degree  to  any  miscon 
duct,  or  even  imprudence,  on  my  part ;  but  was  an 
unavoidable  result  of  the  Panic  of  1825,  which  so 
materially  diminished  the  value  of  all  bookselling 
property  ;  that  the  final  resolution  to  place  my  affairs 
under  the  management  of  trustees  was  come  to  by 
my  creditors  with  the  greatest  reluctance  to  interfere 
with  my  own  administration  of  my  estate ;  that  the 
anxious  and  self-denying  care  with  which  I  abstained 
from  receiving  a  single  shilling  of  its  proceeds  after 
that  resolution  had  been  come  to,  was  a  striking 
instance  of  firmness  and  integrity  ;  that  I  had  been 
unvarying  in  my  determination  not  to  consider  the 
release  from  my  engagements  as  at  all  binding, 
except  in  a  legal  point  of  view,  and  had  unweariedly 
laboured  to  discharge  every  debt  in  full,  just  as  if  no 
such  acquittance  had  taken  place,  going  far  beyond 
what  they  thought  a  duty  to  my  own  family. 

It  is  not  from  any  motive  of  self-exaltation  that  I 
revive  this  matter,  never  to  touch  it  again.  My  own 
deep  feeling  of  gratitude  to  the  eminent  men 'with 
whom  I  was  associated  in  the  Useful  Knowledge 


THE   SECOND   EPOCH.  369 

Society  is  called  forth  now,  when  I  glance  at  the 
many  warm  letters  from  them  which  this  occurrence 
produced.  Nor  do  I  feel  less  grateful  to  Mr.  Coates, 
their  secretary,  for  his  letters  to  me  at  this  juncture. 
My  friends  were  anxious  that  the  stigma  of  my 
exclusion  from  this  so-called  Literary  Club  should  be 
effectually  wiped  off  by  my  election  to  the  most 
distinguished  Club  in  London.  Lord  Lansdowne,  in 
a  letter  addressed  to  the  Lord  Chancellor,  full  of  the 
most  hearty  kindness  towards  me,  declared  his 
opinion  upon  the  wishes  that  my  friends  had  ex 
pressed  on  my  behalf :  "  There  is  no  man  in  England 
better  entitled  than  Knight  to  come  into  the  Athe- 
naBum,"  and  he  subsequently  agreed  to  propose  me 
as  a  member.  This  Lord  Lansdowne  did,  with  a  full 
knowledge  of  the  circumstances.  The  Bishop  of 
Winchester,  whose  conduct  to  me  since  1827  had 
been  marked  by  unvarying  kindness  and  generosity, 
wished  to  support  my  nomination.  Many  other  lead 
ing  members  of  that  Club — and  I  was  glad  to  have 
Mr.  Murray  amongst  the  number — volunteered  their 
aid.  But  party  feeling  then  ran  high,  and  I  was 
unwilling  to  risk  a  contest,  which  might  renew  what 
was  very  disagreeable  to  me  as  a  subject  of  public 
discussion.  The  "  Garrick  Club  Committee  "  elected 
me  after  a  brief  interval.  I  became  also  one  of  the 
early  members  of  the  "  Reform  Club." 

The  hostility  against  the  Society  for  the  Diffusion 
of  Useful  Knowledge,  which  had  been  manifested  by 
a  small  section  of  the  periodical  press,  gradually  died 
out.  Public  opinion  was  louder  than  the  cuckoo  cry 
of  "monopoly"  that  was  shouted  by  fashionable 
publishers  and  echoed  by  a  clique  of  the  regular  pro 
fessors  of  "la  literature  facile."  Those  who  wrote 


370  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE  : 

for  the  Society  had  been  called  in  derision  "  com 
pilers."  The  "men  of  genius"  who  despised  industry 
as  dulness  had  their  little  day  of  sarcasm  against 
"literary  drudges,"  but  in  the  end  the  public  many  was 
too  strong  for  the  exclusive  few.  The  bookselling  trade 
—publishers  as  well  as  retailers — had  also  discovered 
that,  in  the  manifest  extension  of  readers,  a  reliance 
might  be  placed  upon  the  principle  of  increased 
numbers  co-operating  to  purchase  cheap  books,  and 
that  enlarged  returns  would  make  up  for  diminished 
profits  upon  dear  books.  They  had  discovered  that  the 
trade  of  books  would  not  be  destroyed  by  cheap  weekly 
sheets.  If  they  had  not  arrived,  through  a  process 
of  reasoning,  at  the  belief  that  the  more  people  read 
the  more  they  will  read,  they  had  the  evidence  of 
their  own  ledgers  to  inform  them  that  the  literary 
returns  of  the  United  Kingdom  had  nearly  doubled 
since  the  terrible  era  of  cheapness  which  commenced 
in  1827.  Books,  which  at  the  beginning  of  the  cen 
tury  had  been  a  luxury,  had  now  become  a  necessity. 
Still  the  objection  was  urged  that,  however  extended 
was  the  market  for  popular  literature,  the  quality  of 
the  supply  must  as  a  matter  of  course  be  low.  The 
"  Penny  Cyclopaedia "  furnished  a  veiy  sufficient 
answer  to  such  reasoners. 

The  calumnies  with  which  I  had  been  personally 
assailed  had  not  accomplished  their  object — that  of  in 
juring  me  as  a  man  of  business.  They  did  not  lessen 
the  regard  of  my  old  friends,  nor  did  they  cut  me 
off  from  the  confidence  which  secured  me  a  new  and 
important  connexion.  Within  another  year  I  became 
associated  as  Publisher  with  the  great  measure  of 
Local  Administration  that  had  received  the  sanction 
of  Parliament. 


CHAPTEE  XVIH. 

EXT  to  the  "  Cyclopaedia  "  in  the  costliness 
of  its  production,  if  not  in  intrinsic  im 
portance,  was  the  "  Gallery  of  Portraits," 
which  I  published  under  the  superinten 
dence  of  the  Society.  It  was  issued  in  monthly 
numbers  at  half-a-crown  each  number,  containing 
three  portraits  with  biographies.  The  object  of  the 
publication  was  to  present  likenesses  of  those  emi 
nent  men  of  modern  times  who  have  given  the 
greatest  impulse  to  their  age.  In  the  selection  of 
subjects  for  portraiture,  the  Committee  was  occupied 
from  the  beginning  of  1832  (the  first  number  being 
published  in  May),  to  the  midsummer  of  1834. 
Their  occupation  was  of  a  most  pleasant  and  im 
proving  kind,  for  there  was  scarcely  a  name  sug 
gested  that  did  not  involve  some  discussion  upon 
the  merits  of  those  proposed  to  be  represented,  or 
some  statement  of  the  sources  from  which  authentic 
portraits  might  be  obtained.  In  this  latter  respect 
the  influence  of  the  Society,  or  that  of  its  individual 
members,  was  most  valuable,  by  securing  the  admis 
sion  of  copyists  to  Royal  Galleries  and  private 
collections.  British  and  Foreign  statesmen,  warriors, 
divines,  men  of  science  and  letters,  artists,  were 
thus  assigned  their  due  honour  in  a  work,  which  was 
essentially  different  in  its  plan  from  the  "  Portraits 
of  Illustrious  Personages  of  Great  Britain,"  by 


372  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE: 

Edmund  Lodge,  Norroy  King  of  Arms.     Interesting 
as  much  of  Mr.  Lodge's  information  was  in  its  genea 
logical  and  antiquarian  features,  the  book  was  not 
what  it  professed  to  be,  "A  Gallery  of  the  Illustrious 
Dead " — "  A   Collection    of  Portraits  and   Lives  of 
British  Worthies."     It  was  a  collection  of  kings  and 
queens,  of  noble  lords  and  ladies  and  officers  of  state. 
It  was,  with  very  few  exceptions,  not  a  gallery  of  the 
intellectually  illustrious.     Of  the  chief  glories  of  our 
nation — the   poets,  historians,  philosophers,  divines, 
of  the   inventors   and    discoverers   in  physical'  and 
abstract   science,  of  our  most   distinguished  artists, 
there  was  not  one  in  this  "  Gallery  of  the  Illustrious 
Dead,"  unless  he  could  claim  a  place  there  by  some 
titular  or  official  distinction.     Very  different  was  the 
range  of  the  gallery  which  I  considered  it  an  honour 
to  publish,  and  the  large  expenses  of  which  I  cheer 
fully   bore   until   the   work    became    remunerative. 
The  merit  of  suggesting  it,  and  of  most  assiduously 
labouring  to  carry  it   worthily   forward,    is  due   to 
Mr.    Bellenden   Ker.      The   superintendence   of  the 
engravings  was  confided   to  Mr.  Lupton,  a  mezzo- 
tinto    engraver  of  the  first  eminence.     Mr.  Arthur 
Malkin  was  the  editor  of  the  biographies.    These  are 
all  distinguished  for  careful  research  and  an  unpre-' 
tending  style.     A  few  of  the  lives  were  written  by 
his  personal  friends,  amongst  whom  was  Arthur  H. 
Hallam — the   A.   H.    H.  of  Tennyson's  "In  Memo- 
riam  " — who   died  in    1833.     From  De  Quincey   I 
obtained  a  spirited  memoir  of  Milton  ;  and  it  was  to 
ine  a  matter  of  regret,  that  its  length  was  so  out  of 
proportion  to  the  general  character  of  the  work,  that, 
some  curtailment  was  absolutely  necessary. 

The  13th  of  August,  1836,  was  a  remarkable  day 


THE    SECOND   EPOCH.  373 

in  the  annals  of  the  press  of  this  country,  for  on  that 
day  two  Acts  of  Parliament  received  the  Royal 
Assent,  which  materially  influenced  all  the  com 
mercial  arrangements  for  rendering  knowledge,  poli 
tical  or  literary,  more  accessible  to  the  bulk  of  the 
people.  The  first  of  these  (c.  52),  was  to  reduce 
the  duties  on  first-class  paper  from  three-pence  per 
pound  to  three-halfpence,  so  that  the  former  tax  of 
three-halfpence  upon  second-class  paper  should  apply 
to  paper  of  all  descriptions.  The  second  of  these 
(c.  76),  was  to  reduce  the  stamp  on  newspapers 
from  fourpence  to  a  penny.  I  have  previously 
mentioned  (page  180),  a  debate  in  the  House  of 
Commons,  on  the  22nd  of  May,  1834,  upon  a  motion 
for  the  repeal  of  the  newspaper  stamp  duties.  I 
had  at  that  time  learnt  something  of  the  desire  of 
several  members  of  the  government,  including  Lord 
Brougham  and  Lord  Althorp,  that  these  duties 
should  be  wholly  repealed.  Had  that  been  the  case, 
a  difficulty  would  have  arisen  as  to  the  transmission 
of  unstamped  newspapers  by  post.  In  a  letter  to 
Lord  Althorp,  I  suggested  that  a  penny  stamped 
frank  should  be  issued  by  the  government.  Mr. 
M.  D.  Hill,  in  the  debate  which  I  have  mentioned, 
described  the  nature  of  this  suggestion.  In  the 
"  Companion  to  the  Newspaper,"  for  June  the  1st, 
1834,  there  appeared  a  paper  of  considerable  length 
"  prepared  several  months  ago  for  the  information  of 
some  official  personages  who  took  a  strong  interest 
in  the  question  of  the  repeal  of  the  stamp  duties  on 
newspapers."  In  that  paper  it  is  said,  "  In  order  to 
allow  the  unstamped  papers  to  pass  through  the 
Post-office,  it  is  proposed  that  franks  should  be  sold 
(say  by  the  vendors  of  stamps),  at  a  penny  each.  It 


374  PASSAGES   OF    A    WORKING    LIFE! 

will  be  necessary  to  make  the  postage  payable  by 
the  person  sending  the  paper ;  for  otherwise,  a  great 
many  papers,  especially  the  very  low-priced  ones, 
would  be  refused  by  persons  to  whom  they  were 
addressed.  It  is  obvious  that  a  direct  payment  to 
the  Post-office,  by  the  transmitter  of  the  paper, 
would  be  highly  inconvenient,  if  not  impossible. 
Mr.  Knight's  plan .  of  a  stamped  frank  obviates  the 
difficulty  ;  and  it  would  facilitate  the  transmission  of 
all  printed  sheets  under  a  certain  weight."  It  has 
always  been  to  me  a  matter  of  honest  pride  that 
this  suggestion  contributed,  in  however  small  a 
degree,  to  the  efficient  working  of  the  magnificent 
system  of  penny-postage.  Mr.  Rowland  Hill,  in  his 
celebrated  pamphlet  on  Post-office  Reform,  pub 
lished  in  1837,  says,  "  A  few  years  ago,  when  the 
expediency  of  entirely  abolishing  the  newspaper 
stamp,  and  allowing  newspapers  to  pass  through 
the  Post-office  for  one  penny  each,  was  under  con 
sideration,  it  was  proposed  by  Mr.  Charles  Knight, 
the  publisher,  that  the  postage  on  newspapers  might 
be  collected  by  selling  stamped  wrappers  at  one 
•penny  each.  Availing  myself  of  this  excellent  sug 
gestion,  I  propose  the  following  arrangement  : — Let 
stamped  covers  and  sheets  of  paper  be  supplied  to 
the  public  from  the  Stamp-office,  or  Post-office,  as 
may  be  most  convenient,  and  sold  at  such  a  price  as 
to  include  the  postage :  letters  so  stamped,  might 
be  put  into  the  letter-box  as  at  present." 

In  1836,  my  views,  as  to  the  total  repeal  of  the 
Stamp  Duty  on  Newspapers,  were  considerably  al 
tered  from  those  of  1834,  when,  in  suggesting  a  plan 
for  the  circulation  of  unstamped  newspapers,  I  had 
adopted  the  opinion  that  the  stamp,  except  as  a 


THE   SECOND   EPOCH.  375 

postage  payment,  was  injurious.  I  was  apprehen* 
sive,  as  I  was  before  the  removal  of  the  stamp  in 
1855,  that  cheap  newspapers  would  involve  the  de 
gradation  of  journalism.  I  did  not  draw  sound  con 
clusions  from  my  own  experience.  I  did  not  believe 
that  Penny  Papers  would  be  as  innoxious  as  Penny 
Magazines  and  Penny  Cyclopedias,  and  go  on  making 
readers,  till  the  great  body  of  those  who  read  would, 
prefer  sound  nutriment  to  the  garbage  which  was 
offered  them  in  the  days  of  high  taxation.  As  in 
most  cases,  my  own  interest  gave  a  colour,  I  suppose, 
to  my  opinions.  From  the  time  when  William 
Henry  Ord  was  a  contributor  to  "  The  Etonian,"  to 
the  time  when  he  was  a  Member  of  Parliament  and 
a  Lord  of  the  Treasury,  I  had  some  degree  of  inti 
macy,  almost  amounting  to  friendship,  with  this 
amiable  and  accomplished  man.  In  1836,  in  his 
official  position,  he  had  devoted  himself  to  the  great 
measure  of  the  consolidation  of  the  various  Stamp 
Acts.  The  mass  of  obscure  and  confused  enactments 
was  to  be  swept  away,  and  some  intelligible  fiscal 
measure  was  to  be  substituted.  Mr.  Ord  devoted 
himself  to  the  herculean  task  of  preparing  the  way 
for  the  proposition  which  was  brought  forward  by 
Mr.  Spring  Bice,  then  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer. 
The  labour  killed  him.  In  the  spring  of  1836,  I 
frequently  saw  him.  We  had  many  conversations 
on  the  subject  of  the  Newspaper  Stamp  Duties  and 
the  Paper  Duty.  I  fancied  that  if  the  government 
consented  to  abolish  the  Newspaper  Stamp,  they 
would  retain  the  high  Paper  Duty.  Mr.  Ord  and  I 
came  to  the  opinion  that  the  safest  and  the  best 
course  would  be  to  lower  both  imposts.  I  wrote  a 
pamphlet  advocating  this  policy,  which  was  circu- 


376  PASSAGES    OF    A   WORKING   LIFE  I 

lated  amongst  members  of  both  Houses.  Whether 
it  had  any  effect  upon  the  settlement  of  the  question 
is  not  for  me  to  judge.  At  any  rate,  the  reduction 
of  the  Paper  Duty  was  to  me  a  matter  of  vital  im 
portance  ;  and  when  that  boon  to  the  publishers  of 
cheap  books  came  into  operation  in  the  autumn,  I 
felt  that  I  had  shaken  off  much  of  the  insupportable 
weight  of  the  "  Old  Man  of  the  Sea/'  and  went  for 
ward  with  the  words  of  Milton  in  my  heart : 

"To-morrow  to  fresh  fields  and  pastures  new." 

In  1835,  Mr.  Bellenden  Ker  having  returned  from 
a  continental  tour,  gave  me  some  numbers  of  a  work 
then  publishing  in  Germany,  the  "  Bilder  Bibel." 
An  idea  had  once  been  entertained  of  the  Useful 
Knowledge  Society  publishing  a  Bible — an  illus 
trated  one  ;  but  the  notion  was  given  up  as  imprac 
ticable,  and  not  in  accordance  with  the  principle 
upon  which  the  Society  was  established.  Mr.  Ker's 
present  revived  the  project  in  my  mind.  Such  a 
publication,  in  which  Art  should  be  employed  to 
delight  the  young,  and  learning  should  not  be  want 
ing,  offered  a  strong  temptation  to  my  individual 
enterprise.  But  the  difficulty  was  to  find  a  fit 
editor — one  who  held  sound  opinions  upon  the  great 
cardinal  points  of  religion,  but  who  would  at  the 
same  time  content  himself  with  furnishing  an  ample 
commentary  on  such  passages  as  are  connected  with 
the  History,  Geography,  Natural  History,  and  Anti 
quities  of  the  Sacred  Scriptures.  Thus  to  limit  the 
objects  of  the  work  was  to  make  it  acceptable  to  all 
denominations  of  Christians.  I  had  several  conversa 
tions  on  this  matter  with  a  very  learned  and  liberal 
divine ;  but  he  could  not  see  his  course  clearly,  in 


THE   SECOND   EPOCH.  377 

avoiding  theological  questions.  I  often  thought  of 
dividing  the  labour  ;  and  with  this  view  I  proposed 
to  Mr.  Kitto  to  furnish  notes  upon  such  subjects  as 
had  come  under  his  observation  during  his  travels 
and  sojourn  in  the  East.  This  task  he  gladly  under 
took.  In  a  few  weeks  he  came  to  me  and  said — in 
that  guttural  voice  to  which  I  had  now  become 
accustomed — "  I  will  undertake  it  all."  We  had  a 
little  merriment  over  the  boldness  of  the  proposal ; 
but  I  found  that  he  was  perfectly  in  earnest.  As  a 
matter  of  prudence  I  proposed  that  he  should  com 
plete  the  book  of  Genesis,  and  after  that  we  could 
determine  upon  the  future  course  of  proceeding.  He 
accomplished  this  to  my  complete  satisfaction.  The 
enthusiasm  with  which  he  entered  upon  the  task 
was  to  me  an  earnest  that  he  could  well  be  trusted 
to  carry  it  through  faithfully.  I  released  him  from 
all  other  employments ;  and  so,  at  the  beginning  of 
1836,  the  first  number  of  "  The  Pictorial  Bible  "  was 
issued.  In  hitting  upon  the  word  "  Pictorial "  I  felt 
that  I  was  rather  daring  in  the  employment  of  a 
term  which  the  Dictionaries  pronounced  as  "  not  in 
use."  It  has  now  been  rendered  familiar  by  frequent 
employment.  I  could  not  have  easily  found  any 
other  word  that  would  have  conveyed  the  intention 
to  present  wood-engravings  of  the  scriptural  designs 
of  great  painters  ;  of  landscape  scenes  ;  of  costume  ; 
of  zoology  and  botany";  of  the  remains  of  ancient 
architecture.  "  The  Pictorial  Bible  "  was  completed 
in  two  years  and  a  half.  To  me  it  was  profitable, 
costly  as  were  the  wood-cuts.  The  profit  was  doubly 
welcome  from  the  fact,  that  after  having  paid  Mr. 
Kitto,  during  the  progress  of  publication,  250?.  a-year, 
I  was  enabled,  upon  the  completion  of  the  book,  to 


378  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE: 

present  him  with  a  sum  which  seemed  to  him  a  little 
fortune.  A  letter  which  Mr.  Kitto  wrote  to  me,  as 
the  work  was  proceeding,  has  been  published  by  his 
biographer  :  "  I  cannot  begin  any  observations  re 
specting  '  The  Pictorial  Bible/  without  stating  how 
highly  I  have  been  gratified  and  interested  in  the 
occupation  it  has  afforded.  It  has  been  of  infinite 
advantage  as  an  exercise  to  my  own  mind.  It  has 
afforded  me  an  opportunity  of  bringing  nearly  all  my 
resources  into  play;  my  old  biblical  studies,  the 
observations  of  travel,  and  even  the  very  miscella 
neous  character  of  my  reading,  have  all  been  highly 
useful  to  me  in  this  undertaking.  The  venerable 
character  of  the  work  on  which  I  have  laboured,  the 
responsibility  of  annotation,  and  the  extent  in  which 
such  labour  is  likely  to  have  influence,  are  also  cir 
cumstances  which  have  greatly  gratified,  in  a  very 
definite  manner,  that  desire  of  usefulness,  which  has, 
I  may  say,  been  a  strong  principle  of  action  with  me, 
and  which  owes  its  origin,  I  think,  to  the  desire  I 
was  early  led  to  entertain  of  finding  whether  the 
most  adverse  circumstances  (including  the  privation 
of  intellectual  nourishment)  must  necessarily  operate 
in  excluding  me  from  the  hope  of  filling  .a  useful 
place  in  society.  The  question  was,  whether  I  should 
hang  a  dead  weight  upon  society,  or  take  a  place 
among  its  active  men.  I  have  struggled  for  the 
latter  alternative,  and  it  will  be  a  proud  thing  for 
me  if  I  am  enabled  to  realise  it.  I  venture  to  hope 
that  I  shall :  and  to  you  I  am,  in  the  most  eminent 
degree,  indebted  for  the  opportunities,  assistance,  and 
encouragement  you  have  always  afforded  me  in  my 
endeavours  after  this  object."  * 
*  Life  of  John  Kitto,  D.D.,  by  John  Eadie,  D.D.,  1857,  p.  304. 


THE    SECOND    EPOCH.  379 

Of  the  illustrated  books  subsequently  published, 
the  "  Pictorial  History  of  England  "  occupied  seven 
years  in  a  regular  monthly  course  of  publica 
tion.  It  bore  upon  its  title-page  that  it  was  produced 
"By  George  L.  Craik  and  Charles  MacFarlane, 
assisted  by  other  Contributors."  Four  out  of  its 
eight  volumes  carried  the  narrative  to  the  conclusion 
of  the  reign  of  George  the  Second.  The  other  four 
volumes  comprised  only  the  reign  of  George  the 
Third.  This  disproportion  was  fatal  to  the  success 
which  might  have  been  anticipated  if  the  whole  work 
had  been  confined  within  as  reasonable  limits  as  the 
narrative  of  eighteen  centuries,  which  preceded  that 
of  the  latter  half  century.  Mr.  MacFarlane  had 
undertaken  the  larger  department  of  civil  and  mili 
tary  history.  The  history  of  religion,  of  literature, 
and  of  commerce,  could  not  have  been  better  confided 
than  to  Mr.  Craik.  In  his  history  of  the  constitution 
he  was  occasionally  assisted  by  Mr.  Andrew  Bisset, 
who  has  recently  given  an  evidence  that  his  charac 
teristic  views  upon  historical  questions  are  unchanged. 
Sir  Henry  Ellis,  my  old  and  valued  friend,  lent  some 
aid  to  the  literature  of  the  Saxon  Period.  The 
subject  of  the  Arts  was  in  the  hands  of  an  emi 
nent  architect,  Mr.  Edward  Poynter,  whose  vari 
ous  accomplishments  extended  beyond  the  range  of 
his  own  profession.  Mr.  Weir,  who  subsequently 
became  the  Editor  of  the  "  Daily  News,"  wrote  some 
graphic  chapters  on  manners  in  the  time  of  the  third 
George.  But  upon  Mr.  MacFarlane  rested  the  chief 
burden  of  this  elaborate  work.  In  the  early  half  of 
its  chronological  divisions  the  subsidiary  chapters 
rendered  the  historical  narrative  less  difficult  for  one 


380  PASSAGES   OF   A  WORKING   LIFE  I 

writer  to  manage.  For  the  work,  like  that  of  Dr. 
Henry,  was  broken  up  into  separate  divisions.  I  came 
subsequently  to  the  conviction  that  this  was  not  the 
true  plan  upon  which  a  history  of  England  ought  to 
be  conducted.  "  It  may  be  convenient  to  a  writer  to 
treat  of  a  period  under  distinct  heads,  such  as  those 
adopted  by  Dr.  Henry — Civil  and  Military  ;  Ecclesi 
astical  ;  Constitution  ;  Learning  ;  Arts  ;  Commerce  ; 
Manners; — but  such  an  arrangement  necessarily 
involves  a  large  amount  of  prolixity  and  repetition. 
The  intervals,  also,  at  which  the  several  divisions 
occur  in  works  so  conducted  are  much  too- long  ;  for, 
in  a  century  and  a  half,  or  two  centuries,  social 
changes  are  usually  so  great,  that  the  Laws,  Learn 
ing,  Arts,  and  Customs  at  the  beginning  of  such  a 
period  have  little  in  common  with  those  of  its  con 
clusion."  *  What  was  convenient  to  one  writer  was 
a  far  greater  convenience  in  a  history  upon  which 
many  writers  were  employed.  The  plan  worked  well 
to  the  end  of  the  fourth  volume.  Mr.  MacFarlane 
had  a  considerable  power  of  narration.  He  dealt 
more  with  military  than  with  civil  history,  and  in 
this  his  merit  was  conspicuous,  for,  by  nature  or  by 
study,  he  had  acquired  a  very  competent  notion  of 
the  military  art.  Upon  paper  he  "  could  set  an  army 
in  the  field,"  and  "  the  division  of  a  battle  "  well 
understood.  But  in  other  respects  he  had  not  the 
prime  quality  of  the  historian,  impartiality.  He  was 
essentially  a  partizan.  He  did  not  run  riot  upon 
vexed  questions  of  past  times.  He  was  moderate 
in  his  estimate  of  the  virtues  of  Charles  the  First, 


*  "  Popular  History  of  England."     By  Charles  Knight.    Vol.  I. 
Introduction. 


THE   SECOND    EPOCH.  381 

and  would  not  have  broken  a  lance  in  maintaining 
the  purity  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots.  But  when  he 
came  to  the  French  Revolution,  then  he  was  for 
"  whole  volumes  in  folio,"  that  he  might  dwell  upon 
its  countless  abominations,  and  say  no  word  about 
the  mighty  changes  which  it  was  destined  to  produce 
upon  the  condition  of  the  mass  of  society.  -He  was  a 
most  agreeable  companion,  and  an  affectionate  though 
not  a  safe  friend.  Had  I  been  less  attached  to  him  I 
might,  at  all  risks,  have  stopped  the  publication  after 
the  disproportion  of  the  latter  volumes  had  been 
manifested.  But  it  is  difficult  for  a  publisher  to 
adopt  such  a  course  in  a  serial  work,  even  if  his 
interest  called  upon  him  to  be  despotic.  He  is  in 
the  hands  of  others  ;  and  he  must  assent  to  their 
completion  of  the  task  which  they  had  begun.  To 
go  on  is  dangerous;  but  to  halt  midway  would  be 
destruction. 


CHAPTEK   XIX. 

HEN  I  had  entered  upon  the  publication 
of  pictorial  works,  which  had  become  a 
marked  feature  of  my  business,  I  was 
naturally  led,  as  one  serial  approached  its 
completion,  to  look  around  me  for  its  fit  successor. 
The  Bible,  the  History  of  England,  were  books  of 
universal  interest,  in  which  I  could  carry  out  my 
plan  of  rendering  wood-cuts  real  illustrations  of  the 
text,  instead  of  fanciful  devices — true  eye-knowledge, 
sometimes  more  instructive  than  words.  There  was 
one  large  subject  capable  of  such  treatment.  It  was 
once  the  fashion  to  illustrate  Pennant's  "  London " 
with  prints  of  every  age  and  character.  There  could 
be  no  want  of  authentic  materials  for  such  a  book  as 
I  contemplated. 

Many  descriptions  of  the  great  capital,  whose  past 
history  is  as  interesting  as  its  present  state,  had  ap 
peared  at  various  periods.  In  the  age  of  Elizabeth, 
John  Stow  published  his  "  Survey  of  London,  con- 
teyning  the  originall,  antiquity,  increase,  moderne 
estate  and  description  of  that  citie."  The  worthy 
citizen  of  London  has  been  fortunate  in  the  eulogy 
of  his  modern  editor,  William  J.  Thorns,  who  to  the 
learning  of  the  antiquary  unites  the  graces  of  the 
accomplished  writer.  Well  has  he  said  in  his  intro 
ductory  notice,  "  If  it  were  given  to  the  reader  to 
wield  for  a  brief  space  the  staff  of  Prospero,  with 


THE   SECOND   EPOCH.  383 

power  to  conjure  up  a  vision  of  London  as  it  existed 
in  some  former  period,  there  can  be  little  doubt  but 
that  he  would  so  employ  his  art  that  the  London 
of  Shakspeare  should  stand  revealed  before  him. 
Happily,  although  Prospero's  staff  is  broken,  the 
conjurations  of  the  mighty  magic  necessary  to  call 
up  this  busy  pageant  were  lodged  in  the  untiring 
pen  of  honest  John  Stow."  In  the  latter  years  of 
the  Commonwealth,  James  Howell  published  his 
"  Londinopolis ;  Historical  Discourse  and  Perlustra- 
tion  of  London."  This  is  the  city  in  which  Milton 
had  dwelt,  as  a  boy,  beneath  his  father's  roof  in 
Bread  Street,  to  the  time  of  his  death  in  1674,  a 
blind  old  man.  Then  came  laborious  antiquaries  to 
delve  amongst  registers  and  tomb-stones,  with  a 
taste  far  inferior  to  the  historians  who  had  gone 
before  them.  There  was  a  field  open  to  the  light 
essayist ;  and  Leigh  Hunt  made  a  very  pleasant  but 
very  impeifect  book  of  literary  gossip  about  authors 
and  players.  As  a  subject  for  a  pictorial  book  of 
some  extent,  I  decided  upon  publishing  "  London " 
in  weekly  numbers.  It  was  commenced  in  1841  ;  it 
was  finished  in  1844.  I  undertook  the  general 
conduct  of  the  work.  I  had  valuable  contributors  in 
Mr.  Craik,  Mr.  Saunders,  Mr.  Weir,  Mr.  Platt,  Mr. 
Dodd,  Mr.  Planche',  and  Mr.  Fairholt.  I  adopted 
the  plan  of  giving  the  names  of  the  authors  of  each 
paper  in  a  table  of  contents  of  the  several  volumes. 
The  proportions  in  which  each  contributed  to  a 
work  extending  to  two  thousand  five  hundred 
pages  will  thus  be  seen. 

In  1837  I  began  to   look  about  me   for   artistic 

materials  adapted  to  a  Pictorial  Edition  of  Shakspere. 

At   first   view,  the    existing   stores   of  illustrations 

seemed   almost  boundless.      There  were   embellish- 

17 


384  PASSAGES   OP    A   WORKING   LIFE: 

ments  to  various  editions  from  the  time  of  Howe, 
chiefly  of  a  theatrical  character,  and,  for  the  most 
part,  thoroughly  unnatural.  The  grand  historical 
pictures  of  the  Shakspere  Gallery  were  not  in  a  very 
much  higher  taste,  furnishing  a  remarkable  example 
how  painters  of  the  highest  rank  in  their  day  had 
contrived  to  make  the  characters  of  Shakspere  little 
more  than  vehicles  for  the  display  of  false  costume. 
There  were  a  few  valuable  antiquarian  illustrations, 
such  as  those  given  by  Mr.  Douce.  Altogether,  it 
became  necessary  for  me  to  look  carefully  at  the 
plays,  to  see  whether  the  aid  of  art  might  not  be 
called  in  to  add  both  to  the  information  and  enjoy 
ment  of  the  reader  of  Shakspere,  by  representing 
the  Realities  upon  which  the  imagination  of  the 
poet  must  have  rested.  There  were  the  localities  of 
the  various  scenes,  whether  English  or  foreign;  the 
portraits  of  the  real  personages  of  the  historical 
plays;  the  objects  of  natural  history,  so  constantly 
occurring ;  accurate  costume  in  all  its  rich  variety. 
Whilst  engaged  in  my  search  after  such  pictorial 
illustrations,  a  gentleman,  who  has  since  distin 
guished  himself  by  his  antiquarian  knowledge,  lent 
me  his  note-book,  in  which  he  had  jotted  down  a 
somewhat  large  list  of  archasological  subjects.  This 
kindness  of  Mr.  William  Fairholt  was  of  essential  use 
to  me.  I  very  early  put  myself  in  communication 
with  Mr.  Poynter,  who  made  for  me  a  series  of  the 
most  beautiful  architectural  drawings,  which  imparted 
a  character  of  truthfulness  to  many  scenes,  which 
upon  the  stage  had  in  general  been  merely  fanciful 
creations  of  the  painter.  Mr.  Harvey  undertook  to 
produce  a  series  of  frontispieces,  which,  embodying 
the  realities  of  costume  and  other  accessaries,  would 


THE   SECOND    EPOCH.  385 

have  enough  of  an  imaginative  character  to  render 
them  pleasing. 

The  foundations  of  my  edition  as  an  illustrated 
work  of  art  being  thus  laid,  I  diligently  applied 
myself  to  a  critical  examination  of  the  text  to  be 
adopted.  I  procured  a  copy  of  the  first  folio,  which 
was  read  aloud  to  me  whilst  I  marked  upon  a  copy 
of  the  common  trade  edition,  all  the  variations  that 
presented  themselves.  I  found  that  no  book  could 
be  more  incorrectly  printed  than  this  booksellers' 
stereotyped  volume.  I  subsequently  expressed  my 
belief  that  the  text  of  Shakspere  had  not  been  com 
pared  with  the  originals  carefully  and  systematically 
for  half  a  century.  Not  only  had  words  been  changed 
by  printers,  but  whole  lines  had  been  omitted.  The 
punctuation  of  the  received  text  was  in  the  most 
confused  state.  Thus  far,  my  way  was  clear  to 
produce  a  pictorial  edition  with  a  more  correct  text, 
even  if  I  absolutely  relied  upon  the  authority  of  the 
first  folio  compared  with  the  quartos.  Of  these 
scarce  morsels  I  could  avail  myself  in  Steevens'  very 
accurate  reprint.  This  accuracy  I  had  tested  by 
having  the  several  plays  which  he  thus,  reproduced, 
collated  with  originals  in  the  British  Museum.  But 
then,  a  new  difficulty  arose.  The  conjectural  emen 
dations  of  the  variorum  editors  were  so  numerous, 
that  it  was  necessary  that  I  should  make  up  my 
mind  as  to  their  adoption  or  rejection.  I  had  to 
decide  upon  many  disputed  readings ;  and  for  this  it 
was  essential  to  consult  the  great  mass  of  separate 
commentary  that  had  been  published  tty  the  learned, 
the  dull,  and  the  conceited,  during  the  century  in 
which  the  critical  study  of  Shakspere's  text  had 
been  pursued  by  many  competent  and  incompetent 


386  PASSAGES   OP   A   WOKKING  LIFE  I 

writers.  There  was  one  man  of  my  acquaintance, 
for  whom  I  had  a  high  regard — Mr.  Thomas  Rodd, 
the  well-known  bookseller  of  Great  Newport  Street 
— whose  knowledge  of  the  works  which  he  sold  went 
far  beyond  their  title-pages.  He  enabled  me  to  form 
a  considerable  collection  of  commentaries  on  Shak 
spere,  ranging  from  Rymer  and  Dennis  to  Hazlitt 
and  Coleridge.  As  I  advanced  in  my  Shaksperian 
studies,  I  found  that  my  labours  would  not  cease  with 
the  acquirement  of  a  more  intimate  knowledge  of  all 
that  had  been  written  about  the  text,  but  that  I  mast 
carefully  examine  the  various  opinions  as  to  the 
order  in  which  the  plays  of  Shakspere  were  produced, 
unless  I  were  implicitly  to  adopt  the  theories  advo 
cated  in  Malone's  "  Essay"  on  that  very  difficult  sub 
ject.  I  was  satisfied  that  much  depended  in  coming 
to  something  like  accurate  conclusions  as  to  the 
plays  which  belonged  respectively  to  the  poet's  earlier 
period,  his  middle  period,  and  his  later  period.  The 
historical  plays  would  necessarily  follow  in  the  order 
of  the  events  of  which  they  were  the  subject.  But 
for  the  comedies  and  tragedies,  I  determined  to  print 
them  in  the  order  which  I  believed  to  be  at  least  an 
approximation  to  the  period  of  their  composition. 

After  a  year  of  preparation  I  issued  my  pro 
spectus,  in  which  I  boldly  declared  that  Shakspere 
demanded  a  rational  edition  of  his  performances, 
that  should  address  itself  to  the  popular  understand 
ing  in  a  spirit  of  love,  and  not  of  captious  and  pre 
sumptuous  cavilling.  In  the  first  number  of  my 
edition,  containing  the  "  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona," 
I  made  a  distinct  profession  of  faith  in  Shakspere, 
with  a  perfect  knowledge  that  I  should  be  assailed 
on  many  sides,  but  that  I  should  call  up  hosts  of 


THE    SECOND    EPOCH.  387 

friends  ready  to  shake  off  their  allegiance  to  "  the 
dwarfish  commentators  who  are  for  ever  cutting  him 
down  to  their  own  size."  I  thus  wrote  in  my  intro 
ductory  notice  to  this  play  :  "  We  believe  the  time  is 
past  when  it  can  afford  any  satisfaction  to  an  English 
man  to  hear  the  greatest  of  our  poets  perpetually 
held  up  to  ridicule  as  a  sort  of  inspired  barbarian, 
who  worked  without  method,  and  wholly  without 
learning.  But  before  Shakspere  can  be  properly 
understood,  the  popular  mind  must  be  led  in  an 
opposite  direction  ;  and.  we  must  learn  to  regard  him, 
as  he  really  was,  as  the  most  consummate  of  artists, 
who  had  a  complete  and  absolute  control  over  all  the 
materials  and  instruments  of  his  art,  without  any 
subordination  to  mere  impulses  and  caprices, — with 
entire  self-possession  and  perfect  knowledge." 

It  was  natural  for  many  who  had  been  bred  in  a 
reverence  for  the  old  school  of  criticism  to  consider 
me  presumptuous  in  declaring  my  scepticism  as  to 
the  authority  of  Steevens  and  of  M alone.  Probably, 
my  new-born  enthusiasm  carried  me  somewhat  too 
far.  I  accepted  as  a  seasonable  admonition  a  friendly 
letter  from  Mr.  Rodd  :  "  Notwithstanding  all  their 
squabbles  among  themselves  and  abuse  of  each  other, 
the  dulness  of  some  and  wildness  of  others,  I  con 
sider  them  as  a  whole  as  a  body  of  men  who  have 
rendered  singular  service  to  English  literature.  In 
their  readings  for  illustration  of  his  text,  they  have 
thrown  great  light  upon  our  national  history,  anti 
quities  and  language,  and  been  the  means  of  calling 
into  notice  several  good  authors  who  had  fallen  into 
unmerited  obscurity.  Let  me  beg  of  you  to  tread 
more  lightly  over  their  ashes  in  future."  But  I  was 
not  likely,  although  I  might  modify  my  future  ex- 


388  PASSAGES   OP   A   WORKING  LIFE: 

pressions,  to  be  diverted  from  my  convictions  that  I 
had  chosen  the  right  path,  however  perplexed  it 
might  he.  I  had  abundant  encouragement  in  my 
course.  Henry  Nelson  Coleridge  wrote  to  me  upon 
the  appearance  of  my  opening  number :  "  It  is  at 
once  a  beautiful  and  instructive  edition  ;  indeed,  the 
first  in  the  country  conceived  in  a  right  spirit." 
Mrs.  Jameson,  in  a  most  welcome  letter,  expressed 
her  entire  sympathy  with  my  opinions  :  "I  thought 
I  had  well  studied  Shakspere  myself,  but  your 
edition  has  opened  fresh  sources  of  reflection  and 
information."  My  old  friend,  Sir  Henry  Ellis,  prof 
fered  his  assistance,  and  sent  me  a  genuine  slice  of 
the  mulberry-tree  which  he  received  from  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Becket,  and  saw  it  cut  from  the  block  upon 
which  Garrick  had  himself  placed  his  seal.  From 
Leigh  Hunt  I  received  a  letter,  from  which  I  give 
an  extract,  very  characteristic  of  the  writer  :  "  It 
rejoices  me  to  see  you  in  a  task  like  this,  because  it 
enables  you  to  live  in  a  world  which  belongs  to  you 
besides  the  world  of  business,  and  which  will  do  you 
as  much  good  as  I  believe  it  will  give  pleasure  and 
profit  to  the  reader.  To  live  with  Shakspere,  is  to 
breathe  at  once  the  sweetest  and  most  universal  air 
of  humanity."  I  could  multiply  these  testimonies  of 
kindness,  were  it  not  distasteful  to  me  to  appear 
like  my  own  eulogist. 

Offers  of  literary  assistance  in  my  undertaking 
reached  me  from  various  quarters.  I  had  originally 
hoped  for  much  direct  aid,  and  had  thought  that  my 
task  would  be  lightened  by  having  several  persons 
engaged  upon  various  departments.  I  found  this 
idea,  with  two  exceptions — music  and  costume — im 
possible  of  execution,  even  if  I  had  not  become 


THE   SECOND   EPOCH.  389 

enamoured  of  my  work,  and  had  derived  from  it  a 
solace  amidst  many  cares.  The  labour  had  not 
wearied  me  when  I  had  completed  three-fourths  of 
my  undertaking.  In  a  postscript  to  my  sixth  volume, 
I  thus  expressed  my  feelings  :  "  It  is  now  somewhat 
more  than  three  years  since  I  commenced  the  pub 
lication  of  '  The  Pictorial  Edition  of  Shakspere,'  in 
Monthly  Parts  ;  and  during  that  period  I  have  pro 
duced  a  Part  on  the  first  day  of  each  month,  with  one 
single  exception.  The  task  of  editing  this  work  has 
been  to  me  a  most  agreeable  one.  It  has  been  ab 
sorbing  enough  to  require  my  daily  attention, — to 
occupy  my  habitual  thoughts, — to  shut  out  dark 
forebodings, — to  lighten  the  pressure  of  instant  evils. 
It  has  furnished  me  a  useful  and  honourable  occupa 
tion,  which  has  not  been  less  zealously  pursued  be 
cause  it  was  associated  with  the  discharge  of  duties 
not  so  pleasurable.  I  have  worked  at  this  task  with 
a  full  consciousness  of  the  responsibility  which  lay 
upon  me  ;  but  as  I  have  worked  in  the  spirit  of  love, 
that  consciousness  has  never  been  painful." 

The  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona  was  printed  for  the 
first  time  in  the  folio  of  1623.  That  volume  also 
contained  eight  other  comedies,  three  histories,  and 
six  tragedies,  of  which  no  previous  edition  is  known. 
In  addition  to  these  eighteen  plays,  four  other 
comedies  were  there  first  printed  in  a  perfect  shape. 
I  had,  therefore,  ample  reason  for  considering  that 
first  folio  as  standing  with  regard  to  half  of  Shak- 
spere's  plays  in  the  same  relation  to  the  text  as  the 
one  manuscript  of  an  ancient  author.  It  was  the 
only  accredited  complete  copy  of  four  more  of  his 
choicest  works.  I,  therefore,  from  the  first,  held  that 
for  three-fifths  of  Shakspere's  plays  that  folio  was 


390  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE  I  [Ch.  XIV. 

the  only  authority,  however  the  quartos  might  be 
advantageously  compared  with  its  text  with  regard 
to  the  other  two-fifths.  I  did  not  place  an  exclusive 
reliance,  as  I  have  often  been  accused  of  doing,  upon 
the  text  of  that  folio,  but  I  did  not  rely  by  preference 
upon  those  rare  quarto  morsels  which  the  editors  of 
the  first  folio  had  described  as  stolen  and  surreptitious 
copies.  Within  a  week  after  the  appearance  of  my 
first  number,  I  had  a  letter  from  Mr.  John  Wilson 
Croker,  which  went  to  confirm  me  in  my  views  with 
regard  to  the  text.  He  says,  "  Let  me  tell  you  that 
many  years  ago  (near  forty  I  fear)  I  wrote  a  great 
many  pages  to  establish  the  principle  that  you  have 
adopted — the  paramount  authority  of  the  first  folio  ; 
and,  as  well  as  I  can  recollect,  I  went  through  the 
whole  of  Macbeth  to  prove  my  position.  I  know  not 
whether  my  MS.  is  in  existence,  I  rather  fear  not,  as 
I  have  not  seen  it  for  near  thirty  years,  but  it  may 
be  in  some  boxes  of  old  papers  which  are  in  a  lumber 
room,  and  I  will  have  it  looked  for.  If  I  find  it,  and 
that  it  contains  anything  worth  copying,  you  shall 
have  it.  Perhaps,  also,  I  may  be  able  now  and  then 
to  give  you  some  hints  which  may  be  worth  your 
consideration."  My  old  friend,  Dr.  Maginn,  in  a 
letter  of  the  15th  of  November,  showed  that  he  held 
the  first  folio  in  the  same  respect  as  I  did  myself, 
but  was  inclined  to  treat  that  and  all  other  authori 
ties  with  a  licence  that  appeared  to  me  somewhat 
dangerous  :  "  I  have  not  any  Shakespeare  collections 
by  me,  though  I  once  made  a  considerable  number 
of  notes  with  a  view  of  giving  an  edition,  not  of  the 
kind  you  are  publishing,  but  merely  critical  with 
reference  principally  to  the  state  of  the  text.  I  con 
sider  with  you  the  first  folio  to  be  in  the  nature  of  a 


THE    SECOND   EPOCH.  391 

MS.,  and  therefore  to  be  kept  always  primarily  in 
view,  not  of  course  neglecting  the  second  folio,  and 
the  quartos ;  but  having  been  reared  in  a  school  of 
criticism  in  which  even  MSS.  themselves  are  used, 
not  worshipped,  I  have  no  objection  to  wielding  the 
hook  in  a  manner  which  you  would  perhaps  consider 
as  slashing  as  that  of  Bentley  himself." 

Having  thus  taken  up  my  position  with  regard  to 
the  text,  I  went  on  fearlessly  and  consistently.  I 
preferred  perhaps  a  little  too  exclusively  the  autho 
rity  of  the  folio.  I  often  adopted  the  text  of  a  reli 
able  quarto,  always  pointing  out  the  discrepancies  of 
the  two  editions.  But  I  utterly  rejected  the  principle 
of  making  a  hash  out  of  two  texts,  which  had  been 
the  common  practice  of  the  variorum  editors.  To 
decide  amidst  various  readings  was  really  a  much 
more  difficult  task  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago  than  it 
would  be  now,  did  the  text  remain  precisely  in  the 
state  in  which  it  was  when  I  began  my  labours. 
There  did  not  then  exist  such  a  perfect,  I  might 
almost  say  such  a  wonderful  help  to  memory  as  Mrs. 
Cowden  Clarke's  Concordance.  Ayscough's  Index 
was  exceedingly  imperfect  and  ill-arranged.  The 
"Verbal  Index"  of  Twiss — two  rare  volumes,  which 
cost  me  three  or  four  guineas — was  a  book  that  was 
to  me  a  perpetual  source  of  perplexity,  for  the  refer 
ences  of  a  single  word  to  a  hundred  different  places, 
without  the  slightest  key  to  its  use  and  significance, 
led  me  into  a  labyrinth  whose  darkness  it  was  im 
possible  to  penetrate.  Honoured  be  the  untiring 
industry  and  correct  judgment  of  that  lady,  who 
came  too  late  to  assist  me  in  my  first  edition,  but 
who  has  ever  since  been  my  reliable  aid  whenever  I 
was  engaged  in  a  critical  study  of  Shakspere. 


392  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE: 

My  continuous  work  had  sometimes  relief  when 
questions  arose  which  were  of  a  more  novel  and 
exciting  character  than  textual  commentary  or  even 
sesthetical  criticism.  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor 
took  me  back  into  the  old  scenes  of  iny  childhood, 
which  I  retraced  in  companionship  with  one  whose 
mind  was  as  natural  and  genial  as  his  landscapes  are 
pure  and  truthful.  Thomas  Creswick  and  his  wife 
spent  a  few  weeks  with  us  in  a  cottage  at  Salt  Hill. 
A  short  walk  took  the  painter  with  his  sketch  book, 
and  the  editor,  with  his  unwritten  knowledge  of  old 
familiar  haunts,  into  Windsor,  and  there  we  might 
trace  the  misfortunes  of  Falstaff,  as  he  was  carried 
"  in  the  name  of  foul  clothes  to  Datchet  Lane,"  and 
thence  "  slighted  into  the  river  where  the  shore  was 
shelvy  and  narrow."  "About  the  fields  through 
Frogmore  "  suggested  a  stroll  in  another  direction,  to 
find  a  fit  locality  for  the  farm-house  where  Ann  Page 
was  "  a  feasting."  The  Windsor  town  of  mediaeval 
architecture  was  to  be  imagined,  but  the  position 
of  its  streets  with  reference  to  the  Castle  could  be 
well  defined.  Mr.  Ores  wick's  charming  designs  made 
the  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor  the  gem  of  the  come 
dies  in  my  edition.  But  as  if  Shakspere,  the  "  gentle 
Shakspere,"  was  to  be  always  provocative  of  contro 
versy,  I  became  involved  in  the  discussion  of  the 
very  doubtful  question  whether  Herne's  Oak  existed 
or  had  been  cut  down.  The  subject  is  stated  so  fully 
in  my  original  edition,  and,  with  some  additional 
matter,  in  the  revised  issue  of  the 'Pictorial  Shakspere 
now  publishing,  that  it  is  scarcely  necessary  to  add 
anything  to  my  details  of  the  evidence  regarding 
the  controverted  points  between  Mr.  Jesse  and  the 
(( Quarterly  Review/1  beyond  printing  here  an  extract 


THE   SECOND   EPOCH.  393 

of  a  letter  to  me  from  Mr.  Croker,  of  the  13th  of 
January,  1842  :— 

"  Your  dissertation  on  Herne's  Oak  is  conclusive 
against  Mr.  Jesse's  fable,  but  there  is  one  point  of 
that  fable,  of  the  error  of  which  you  cannot  be  ap 
prised.  Mr.  Jesse  admits  that  George  IV.  frequently 
stated  that  '  George  III.  had  cut  down  the  tree  sup 
posed  to  be  Herne's  oak  ; '  but  that  '  he  always 
added  that  it  was  not  so.'  Now  I  was  the  person  to 
whom  George  IV.  told  the  whole  story,  and  I  told  it, 
many  years  ago,  to  Mr.  Jesse,  to  whom  it  was  then 
new,  and  I  can  assert  that  George  IV.  never  added 
anything  like  what  Mr.  Jesse  has  stated,  but  quite 
the  reverse.  I  know  not  from  whom  else  Mr.  Jesse 
might  afterwards  have  heard  the  story,  nor  with 
what  additions ;  but  his  statement  that  George  IV. 
always  told  the  story  with  the  addition  in  question, 
is  assuredly  not  the  fact,  for  he  did  not  so  tell  it  me, 
and  Mr.  Jesse  first  heard  the  story  from  me  without 
any  such  addition.  Mr.  Jesse  asked  me  to  allow  him 
to  print  my  version  of  the  story — not  at  that  time 
stating  that  he  had  heard  any  other  version — but 
this  I  refused,  out  of  delicacy  to  George  IV.,  who,  I 
think,  was  still  alive,  and  to  the  rest  of  the  Royal 
family,  for  the  fact  is,  that  George  IV.  told  me  the 
story  as  a  proof  that  his  father's  mental  disorder  had 
shown  itself  earlier  than  was  generally  known  ;  and 
all  the  circumstances  of  the  anecdote — and  they  are 
very  curious — tended  to  show  that  this  cutting  down 
of  the  tree  was  an  act  of  temporary  derangement. 
So  much  for  my  share  in  Mr.  Jesse's  story.  In  1838 
George  IV.  and  even  William  IV.  were  dead,  and  I 
thought  I  might,  without  impropriety,  set  the 
substance  of  the  matter  right  in  the  'Quarterly 


394  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING  LIFE: 

Review/  which  I  did  in  the  passage  you  have 
quoted." 

During  my  editorial  employment  upon  Twelfth 
Night,  I  was  led  into  considerations  with  regard  to 
Shakspere's  domestic  character  by  the  perusal  of  Mr. 
De  Quincey's  Life  of  Shakspere  in  a  Part  of  the 
"  Encyclopaedia  Britannica "  which  had  just  then 
appeared.  My  logical  friend  had  taken  up  the  no 
tion  that  a  passage  in  Twelfth  Night  was  a  pathetic 
counsel  of  the  poet  in  his  maturest  years  "  against 
the  errors  into  which  his  own  inexperience  had  been 
ensnared."  He  maintains  that  when  the  duke  says 
to  the  pretended  Cesario — 

"  Then  let  thy  love  be  younger  than  thyself, 
Or  thy  affection  cannot  hold  the  bent," 

Shakspere  intends  to  notice  the  disparity  of  years 
between  himself  and  his  wife.  Mr.  De  Quincey's 
theory  that  Shakspere's  married  life  was  one  of  un- 
happiness,  was  supported  by  the  dictum  of  Malone 
in  1780,  who  first  dragged  a  passage  of  Shakspere's 
Will  into  light,  to  prove  that  in  this,  his  last  solemn 
act,  the  wife  of  the  rich  player  of  Stratford  had  not 
wholly  escaped  his  memory  ;  but,  as  more  strongly 
to  mark  how  little  he  esteemed  her,  he  had  "  cut  her 
off,  not  indeed  with  a  shilling,  but  with  an  old  bed." 
Steevens  considered  the  bequest  of  the  second  best 
bed  as  "  a  mark  of  peculiar  tenderness,"  and  assumed 
that  she  was  provided  for  by  a  settlement.  It  cer 
tainly  occurred  to  me  that  such  conjectures  and 
inferences  were  a  mere  waste  of  words.  I  had  made 
what  the  critical  solvers  of  historical  puzzles  call  a 
discovery.  Well  do  I  remember  the  glee  with  which, 
having  written  the  following  paragraph,  I  showed 


THE    SECOND    EPOCH.  .         395 

it  to  my  dear  friend,  Mr.  Thomas  Clarke,  a  sound 
lawyer,  who  confirmed  my  opinion,  as  fully  as  did 
Mr.  Long  and  Mr.  Hill,  with  whom  I  subsequently 
discussed  the  matter.  "  Shakspere  knew  the  law  of 
England  better  than  his  legal  commentators.  His 
estates,  with  the  exception  of  a  copyhold  tenement, 
expressly  mentioned  in  his  will,  were  freehold.  His 
WIFE  WAS  ENTITLED  TO  DOWER.  She  was  provided 
for  amply,  by  the  clear  and  undeniable  operation 
of  the  English  law.  Of  the  houses  and  gardens 
which  Shakspere  inherited  from  his  father,  she  was  as 
sured  of  the  life-interest  of  a  third,  should  she  survive 
her  husband,  the  instant  that  old  John  Shakspere 
died.  Of  the  capital  messuage,  called  New  Place, 
the  best  house  in  Stratford,  which  Shakspere  pur 
chased  in  1597,  she  was  assured  of  the  same  life- 
interest,  from  the  moment  of  the  conveyance,  pro 
vided  it  was  a  direct  conveyance  to  her  husband. 
That  it  was  so  conveyed,  we  may  infer  from  the 
terms  of  the  conveyance  of  the  lands  in  Old  Strat 
ford,  and  other  places,  which  were  purchased  by 
Shakspere  in  1 602,  and  were  then  conveyed  '  to  the 
onlye  proper  use  and  behoofe  of  the  saide  William 
Shakespere,  his  heires  and  assignes  for  ever.'  Of  a 
life-interest  in  a  third  of  those  lands  also  was  she 
assured.  The  tenement  in  Blackfriars,  purchased  in 
1614,  was  conveyed  to  Shakspere  and  three  other 
persons,  and  after  his  death  was  re-conveyed  by 
those  persons  to  the  uses  of  his  will,  '  for  and  in  per 
formance  of  the  confidence  and  trust  in  them  reposed 
by  William  Shakespeare  deceased.'  In  this  estate, 
certainly,  the  widow  of  our  poet  had  not  dower." 

In   the  postscript  to  Twelfth  Night,  I  had  said, 
adverting  to  a  letter  printed  by  Mr.  Collier  in  his 


396  PASSAGES   OF   A  WOKKING  LIFE: 

"  New  Facts,"  "  There  was  one  who  knew  Shakspere 
well — who,  illustrious  as  he  was  by  birth  and  station, 
does  not  hesitate  to  call  him,  one  of  the  poor  players 
of  Blackfriars,  'my  especial  friend' — who  testifies 
decidedly  enough  to  the  public  estimation  of  his 
domestic  conduct."  That  letter  purported  to  have 
been  written  in  1608  by  Lord  Southampton  to  Lord 
Chancellor  Ellesmere.  I  must  give  another  extract 
from  Mr.  Croker's  correspondence  with  me  on  the 
subject  of  Shakspere,  to  show  how  carefully  this 
friend  watched  my  progress,  and  with  what  critical 
acumen  he  anticipated  the  objections  of  the  present 
day  to  discoveries  of  this  apocryphal  character.  "  I 
observe  you  quote  and  rely  upon  the  letter  signed 
'  H.  S.'  discovered  among  Lord  Ellesmere's  papers 
by  Mr.  Collier.  If  that  letter  be  genuine  I  must 
plead  guilty  to  a  great  want  of  critical  sagacity,  for 
somehow  it  smacks  to  me  of  modern  invention,  and 
all  my  reconsideration  of  the  subject,  and  some  other 
circumstances  which  have  since  struck  me,  corrobo 
rate  my  doubts.  Mr.  Collier  is,  of  course,  above  all 
suspicion  of  having  any  hand  in  a  fabrication,  but  it 
appears  that  one  person  at  least,  and  perhaps  more, 
had  access  to  the  papers  before  him,  though  it  would 
seem  that  the  particular  bundle  appeared  not  to 
have  been  opened  since  it  was  first  tied  up.  In 
short,  I  see  such  strong  external  evidence  of  authen 
ticity,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  such  internal  evidence 
(in  my  judgment)  of  the  contrary,  that  I  am 
puzzled." 

In  the  spring  of  1841  I  commenced  the  publica 
tion  of  "  Knight's  Store  of  Knowledge  for  all 
Readers" — a  series  of  original  treatises  by  various 
authors.  It  was  issued  in  weekly  numbers  at  two- 


THE    SECOND   EPOCH.  397 

pence.  The  first  and  second  numbers  were  de 
voted  to  Shakspere  and  his  writings,  and  they  bore 
my  name  as  their  author.  At  this  period  I  had 
finished  six  volumes  of  the  Pictorial  Shakspere,  and 
the  seventh,  consisting  of  the  doubtful  plays  and 
poems,  was  being  printed.  I  had  not  yet  commenced 
writing  the  biography,  but  I  had  collected  various 
materials  for  that  object ;  had  visited  Stratford,  and 
had  inspected  several  documents  preserved  there.  I 
was  thus  prepared  to  write  the  papers  in  the  "  Store 
of  Knowledge,"  with  many  new  materials,  and  a 
tolerably  complete  acquaintance  with  whatever  had 
been  published  of  this  very  obscure  life.  That  this 
unpretending  production  of  mine  had  supplied  a 
want,  I  was  assured  in  a  letter  which  I  have  before 
me  from  John  Sterling,  written  in  February,  1842, 
when  he  was  staying  at  Falmouth.  He  thanks  me 
for  the  pleasure  and  instruction  furnished  by  the 
first  volume  of  my  new  edition  of  Shakspere — "  The 
Library  Edition,"  published  on  the  1st  of  January, 
1842, — and  he  then  adds,  "  I  had  previously  read  with 
great  delight  your  convincing  and  comprehensive 
Life  of  the  Poet  in  the  '  Store  of  Knowledge.'  I  was 
charmed  to  find  so  much  external  evidence  for  a 
view  which  the  study  of  his  style — so  richly  compo 
site — must  have  more  or  less  obscurely  suggested  to 
all  intelligent  readers."  The  praise  of  such  a  man 
furnished  ample  encouragement  to  me  to  devote  my 
best  exertions  to  the  completion  of  the  "  Biography  " 
which  I  had  announced.  The  outline  in  the  "  Store 
of  Knowledge  "  embodied,  with  slight  variations,  the 
general  view  which  I  subsequently  elaborated.  As 
those  papers  have  probably  passed  into  oblivion,  I 
shall  here  attempt  a  very  brief  analysis  of  the 


398  PASSAGES  OF   A   WORKING  LIFE! 

portions  in  which  I  expressed  my  strong  objections, 
or  grave  doubts,  as  to  much  that  had  been  previously 
given  to  the  world  as  the  authentic  facts  of  Shak- 
spere's  life.  My  discovery  as  to  his  wife's  dower, 
had  perhaps  made  me  a  little  too  sceptical — perhaps 
a  little  too  rash,  in  regard  to  many  of  the  stories 
embodied  in  the  elaborate  "Life  of  William  Shak- 
speare,"  by  Edmund  Malone,  which  occupies  .nearly 
three  hundred  pages  of  the  edition  of  1821.  I  had 
earned  that  volume  with  me  to  Stratford  in  my  first 
visit  just  noticed  ;  and  during  my  few  days'  sojourn 
there,  had  made  many  marginal  notes,  for  the  most 
part  recording  my  first  doubts  of  the  received  biogra 
phies.  At  the  head  of  the  section  in  which  it  is 
attempted  to  prove  that  Shakspere's  father  was  an 
impoverished  and  dishonoured  man,  I  find  written, 
u  It  appears  to  me  that  all  this  may  be  pounded  into 
nothing." 

About  six  months  afterwards,  I  published  in  my 
Pictorial  Edition,  an  "Illustration  of  the  Sonnets." 
In  this  elaborate  analysis  I  worked  out  my  theory 
that  the  poems  of  Shakspere,  which  Meres  had,  in 
1598,  termed  his  "sugared  sonnets,"  amongst  his 
private  friends,  when  published  as  "never  before 
imprinted,"  in  1609,  "  were  a  collection  of  (  Sibylline 
leaves '  rescued  from  the  perishableness  of  their  writ 
ten  state,  by  some  person  who  had  access  to  the  high 
and  brilliant  circle  in  which  Shakspere  was  esteemed ; 
and  that  this  person's  scrap-book,  necessarily  imper 
fect  and  pretending  to  no  order,  found  its  way  to  the 
hands  of  a  bookseller,  who  was  too  happy  to  give  to 
that  age  what  its  most  distinguished  man  had  written 
at  various  periods,  for  his  own  amusement,  and  for 
the  gratification  of  his  '  private  friends.'  " 


THE   SECOND    EPOCH.  399 

I  commenced  the  composition  of  "  William  Shak 
spere,  a  Biography,"  at  Stratford-upon-Avon,  in  the 
summer  of  1842.  The  first  book,  comprising  about 
half  the  volume,  was  published  in  November  of  that 
year.  This  portion  embraces  the  scanty  materials 
for  a  life  of  Shakspere  properly  so  called,  up  to  the 
period  when  he  left  Stratford  to  enter  upon  his  dra 
matic  career  in  London.  But  I  endeavoured  to 
associate  Shakspere  with  the  circumstances  around 
him,  in  a  manner  which  might  fix  them  in  the  mind 
of  the  reader  by  exciting  his  interest.  I  might  have 
accomplished  the  same  end  by  somewhat  extending 
the  notice  in  the  "Store  of  Knowledge,"  accompanied 
by  a  History  of  Manners  and  Customs,  a  History 
of  the  Stage,  &c.,  &c.  The  form  of  my  biography 
might  appear  fanciful.  It  has  been  called  by  a 
prosaic  critic  a  burlesque.  But  the  narrative  essen 
tially  rested  upon  facts,  and  if  criticism  required  me 
to  move  in  the  old  tramway,  I  was  content  to  have 
chosen  a  byway  more  circuitous,  but  probably  more 
pleasing. 


CHAPTEE  XX. 


HE  "Penny  Cyclopaedia"  was  finished  in 
twenty-seven  volumes,  in  the  spring  of 
1844.  The  notion  of  a  Supplement  had 
not  then  been  matured.  The  work  was 
deemed  complete,  as  far  as  the  efforts  of  the  editor 
and  his  contributors  could  keep  pace  with  the  rapid 
march  of  invention,  the  improvements  of  legislation, 
and  the  onward  rush  of  every  department  of 
knowledge.  It  is  in  the  very  nature  of  such  works  that 
they  must  be  to  some  extent  imperfect.  Not  Argus 
with  his  hundred  eyes  could  note  down  all  the  me 
tamorphoses  of  Time,  the  great  magician,  as  lie  calls 
them  into  life. 

Soon  after  the  close  of  this  labour  of  eleven  years, 
I  received  an  honour  upon  which  I  look  back  as  one 
of  my  unalloyed  "  Pleasures  of  Memory."  It  comes 
before  me  now  with  the  vagueness  of  an  agreeable 
dream.  To  give  some  precision  to  my  recollections,  a 
friend  transcribed  for  me,  from  the  vast  file  of  news 
papers  in  the  British  Museum,  some  paragraphs 
from  those  of  June,  1844.  I  will  give  one  from 
the  " Athenaeum"  of  the  15th  of  that  month: 
"  Change  is  our  order — the  order  of  the  nineteenth 
century ;  and,  in  marking  progress,  we  may  record 
here  that  authors  and  publishers  seem  about  to 
'  handy-dandy/ — and  that  the  contributors  to  the 
'  Penny  Cyclopaedia,'  and  some  personal  friends, 


THE    SECOND    EPOCH.  401 

have  given  Mr.  Charles  Knight  a  sumptuous  enter 
tainment  at  the  Albion  Tavern,  on  the  completion  of 
that  work."  The  word  "handy-dandy"  may  send 
my  readers  to  their  Shakspere  : — "  Change  places,  and 
handy-dandy,  which  is  the  justice,  which  is  the 
thief? "  This  were  an  unsavoury  allusion  to  the 
change  indicated  above ;  if  there  were  any  meaning 
intended.  But  perhaps  the  "  Athenaeum"  had  turned 
to  Todd's  "Johnson,"  and  had  there  found  this  de 
finition  :  "  A  play  amongst  children,  in  which  some 
thing  is  shaken  between  two  hands,  and  then  a  guess 
is  made  in  which  hand  it  is  retained."  There  was 
little  of  the  material  reward  of  industry  to  be  retained 
in  my  palm  had  it  been  ever  so  "  itching  ;  "  and  this 
my  "authors"  knew.  But  when  one  individual 
amongst  "  publishers  "  received  such  an  unusual  com 
pliment  as  was  bestowed  upon  me,  I  trust  that  I  may 
regard  the  circumstance  in  the  spirit  of  the  "  Athe 
naeum  " — as  "  marking  progress  "  in  the  relations  be 
tween  two  classes  that  were  generally  considered 
natural  enemies,  but  whose  interests  are  identical  and 
ought  never  to  be  separated. 

Upon  reflection,  I  do  not  think  it  would  be  seemly 
in  me  to  present  my  own  recollections  of  the  circum 
stances  attending  this  dinner.  Nor  could  I  faithfully 
do  so.  I  was  at  once  joyous  and  frightened  in  my 
novel  position.  As  to  remembering  what  I  said 
myself,  in  returning  thanks,  it  comes  before  me  "like 
a  tangled  chain."  One  thing  I  recollect.  I  quoted 
from  Joan  of  Arc's  speech  in  Henry  VI. 

' '  Glory  is  like  a  circle  in  the  water, 
"Which  never  ceaseth  to  enlarge  itself, 
Till  by  broad  spreading  it  disperse  to  nought. " 

And  then  I  ejaculated  "not  so  knowledge." 


402  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE  I 

But  I  must  give  some  relation  of  this  dinner  ;  and 
I  therefore  blend  portions  of  the  reports  of  "The 
Times  "  and  the  "  Morning  Chronicle,"  without  any 
deviation  of  phrase. 

"  On  the  suggestion  of  several  eminent  persons,' 
it  was  proposed  to  give  an  entertainment  to  Mr. 
Knight,  in  celebration  of  the  successful  completion 
of  the  "  Penny  Cyclopsedia,"  and  to  express  their 
sense  of  the  value  and  usefulness  of  the  literary  un 
dertakings  in  which  he  has  been  engaged  as  editor  or 
publisher.  Accordingly  a  large  party  met  on  Wed 
nesday  evening  at  the  Albion  Tavern. 

"  The  Chair  was  taken  by  Lord  Brougham  ;  and 
amongst  the  company  assembled  were  Lord  Wrot- 
tesley,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Jones  the  tithe  commissioner, 
Mr.  Bellenden  Ker,  Mr.  John  Lefevre,  Mr.  Parkes, 
Professor  Key,  Professor  Long,  Mr.  M.  D.  Hill,  Mr. 
Christie,  M.  P.,  Mr.  Chadwick,  Mr.  Porter  of  the 
Board  of  Trade,  and  a  host  of  literary  and  scientific 
gentlemen,  as  well  as  influential  individuals  con 
nected  with  the  publishing  world. 

"  Lord  Brougham,  in  proposing  the  health  of  Mr. 
Knight,  dwelt  on  the  various  services  which,  in  con 
nection  with  the  Useful  Knowledge  Society,  he  had 
been  enabled  to  render  towards  the  advancement  of 
society  in  moral  as  well  as  intellectual  knowledge  ; 
pointed  out  especially  the  grea,t  service  he  did  to  the 
state  in  writing  and  publishing  his  two  little  works, 
"The  Rights  of  Industry"  and  "The  Results  of 
Machinery" — two  publications  which,  at  a  time  of 
great  public  excitement,  were  eminently  conducive 
to  allaying  the  reckless  spirit  which,  in  1830,  was 
leading  multitudes  to  destroy  property  and  break 
up  machines.  He  also  pointed  out  what  Mr.  Knight 


THE    SECOND   EPOCH.  403 

Lad  done  in  editing  and  illustrating  Shakspcre ;  in 
the  projection  and  carrying  on  of  the  '  Penny  Ma 
gazine  ; '  and  the  completion  of  the  '  Penny  Cy 
clopaedia.' 

"  Mr.  Knight's  health  was  drunk  with  much  enthu 
siasm,  and  he  returned  thanks  in  a  very  expressive 
manner,  modestly  urging  the  greater  services  of  Pro 
fessor  -Long,  the  editor,  in  the  completion  of  the 
'  Penny  Cyclopaedia.'  The  Chairman,  after  tendering 
apologies  for  the  absence  of  Lord  Denman,  Lord 
John  Russell,  and  Dr.  Lushington,  proposed  the 
health  of  Professor  Long,  who  duly  returned  thanks, 
and  called  on  the  assembly  to  thank  the  contributors 
whose  valuable  aid  he  had  received.  After  a  few 
words  from  Professor  Key,  Mr.  Weir  proposed  the 
Society  for  the  Diffusion  of  Useful  Knowledge,  to 
which  Lord  Wrottesley  responded. 

"  Some  excellent  speeches  were  made  during  the 
evening,  especially  one  by  Mr.  M.  D.  Hill,  who 
pointed  out  that  the  '  Pictorial  History  of  England/ 
projected  by  Mr.  Knight,  had  realised  a  long-cherished 
idea,  that  of  seeing  a  history  of  England  which  would 
make  the  people  and  the  progress  of  national  insti 
tutions  a  prominent  feature.  To  this  toast  Mr. 
Craik  responded.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Jones,  who  proposed 
the  health  of  Lord  Brougham,  was  warmly  applauded 
in  declaring  that  neither  the  Church  nor  religion  had 
anything  to  fear  from  the  spread  of  useful  knowledge, 
but,  on  the  contrary,  its  diffusion  was  tributary  to  the 
highest  and  best  interests  of  mankind." 

In  connection  with  the  paragraph  respecting  the 
dinner  at  the  Albion  which  I  have  quoted  from  the 
"  Athenaeum,"  was  the  following  notice  : — "  We  may 
add,  as  equally  significant  of  the  change  that  is 


404  PASSAGES    OF    A   WORKING   LIFE: 

coming  over  the  spirit  of  the  age,  that  Her  Majesty 
has  been  pleased  to  signify,  through  Sir  Henry 
Wheatley,  her  desire  that  copies  of  Mr.  Knight's 
forthcoming  publications,  entitled  Knight's  Weekly 
Volume,  should  be  supplied  to  the  libraries  esta 
blished  at  all  the  palaces." 

The  "  change  that  is  coming  over  the  spirit  of  the 
age  "  had  probably  some  regard  to  times  happily  long 
past,  when  literature  was  the  toy  of  a  king  and  his 
courtesans,  or  the  scorn  of  another  crowned  head  who 
hated  "Boets  and  Bainters."  There  was  a  period 
nearer  to  our  own  when  the  great  were  considered 
the  exclusive  patrons  of  letters.  Queen  Victoria 
upheld  "  the  spirit  of  the  age  "  in  her  gracious  sup 
port  of  a  series  of  books  professedly  cheaper  than 
any  collection  that  had  previously  existed.  The 
undertaking  had  several  features  of  novelty,  and  of 
general  interest.  I  was  proud  of  the  patronage  of 
the  Queen.  Perhaps  I  was  equally  pleased  with  the 
encouragement  I  received  from  a  distinguished  writer, 
with  whom  I  had  not  then  the  happiness  of  that  inti 
mate  acquaintance  which  I  have  subsequently  enjoyed. 
On  the  4th  of  June,  I  received  a  letter  from  Mr. 
Charles  Dickens,  who  had  seen  my  Prospectus,  and 
pronounced  "  the  whole  scheme  full  of  the  highest 
interest."  He  adds  : — "  If  I  can  ever  be  of  the 
feeblest  use  in  advancing  a  project  so  intimately  con 
nected  with  an  end  on  which  my  heart  is  set — the 
liberal  education  of  the  people — I  shall  be  sincerely 
glad.  All  good  wishes  and  success  attend  you." 

The  prospectus  to  which  Mr.  Dickens  refers  was 
entitled  "  Book-Clubs  for  all  Headers."  It  set  forth 
that  one  of  the  first  attempts,  and  it  was  a  successful 
one,  to  establish  a  cheap  Book-Club  was  made  by 


THE   SECOND    EPOCH.  405 

Robert  Burns.  He  had  founded  a  Society  at  Tarbol- 
ton,  called  the  Bachelors'  Club,  which  met  monthly 
for  the  purposes  of  discussion  and  conversation.  But 
this  was  a  club  without  books  ;  for  the  fines  levied 
upon  the  members  were  spent  in  conviviality.  Having 
changed  his  residence  to  Mauchline,  a  similar  club 
was  established  there,  but  with  one  important  altera 
tion  : — the  fines  were  set  apart  for  the  purchase  of 
books,  and  the  first  work  bought  was  "  The  Mirror," 
by  Henry  Mackenzie.  The  prospectus  went  on  to 
notice  that,  in  1825,  Mr.  Brougham,  in  his  "  Practical 
Observations  upon  the  Education  of  the  People,"  had 
maintained  that  Book-Clubs  or  Reading  Societies 
might  be  established  bv  small  numbers  of  contribu- 

o  «/ 

tors,  and  would  require  only  an  inconsiderable  fund. 
He  says — having  mentioned  a  few  works  which  were 
then  in  existence — "  I  would  here  remark  the  great 
effect  of  combination  upon  such  plans,  in  making  the 
money  of  individuals  go  far.  Three -halfpence  a  week, 
laid  by  in  a  whole  family,  will  enable  it  to  purchase 
in  a  year  one  of  the  cheap  volumes  of  which  I  have 
spoken  above ;  and  a  penny  a  week  would  be  sufficient, 
were  the  publications  made  as  cheap  as  possible.  Now, 
let  only  a  few  neighbours  join,  say  ten  or  twelve,  and 
lend  each  other  the  books  bought,  and  it  is  evident 
that,  for  a  price  so  small  as  to  be  within  the  reach  of 
the  poorest  labourer,  all  may  have  full  as  many  books 
in  the  course  of  the  year  as  it  is  possible  for  them  to 
read,  even  supposing  that  the  books  bought  by  every 
one  are  not  such  as  all  the  others  desire  to  have." 

The  publications  which  I  proposed  to  make  "as 
cheap  as  possible,"  would  enable  a  family  to  purchase 
four  separate  books  at  the  end  of  a  year  by  laying  by 
a  penny  a  week.  But  if  twelve  neighbours,  or  twelve 


406  PASSAGES   OF    A   WORKING   LIFE: 

fellow- workmen^  or  twelve  apprentices,  or  twelve 
school  boys,  were  to  form  a  book-club  to  which  each 
should  contribute  a  penny  a  week,  the  association 
would  find  itself  at  the  end  of  the  year  in  possession 
of  fifty-two  of  "Knight's  Weekly  Volumes,"  to  be 
preserved  as  a  Joint-Stock  Library,  or  sold  to  the 
highest  bidder,  according  to  the  plan  of  expensive 
Book-Clubs.  The  first  "  Weekly  Volume"  was  pub 
lished  on  the  29th  of  June,  1844. 

The  series  of  the  "  Weekly  Volume  "  was  com 
menced  with  a  book  written  by  myself,  "  William 
Caxton,  the  first  English  Printer,  a  Biography." 
During  the  course  of  two  years,  one  hundred  and 
five  volumes  were  issued  regularly,  the  weekly 
publication  not  having  been  omitted  in  a  single 
instance.  The  subjects  had  always  been  selected 
upon  a  plan  which  had  (in  the  course  of  this  time) 
attained  a  certain  completeness  ;  and  a  little  library 
having  been  formed,  equally  suited  to  Book  Clubs 
and  private  purchasers,  it  was  unnecessary  to  con 
tinue  the  publication  at  the  rapid  rate  which  had 
been  previously  thought  desirable.  The  "Weekly 
Volume  "  then  became  the  "  Shilling  Volume."  In 
the  monthly  issue  it  was  continued  for  two  more 
years.  I  shall  have  occasion  briefly  to  refer  to  the 
series  in  the  next  epoch  of  my  "Working  Life,"  for 
some  books  of  original  value  were  comprised  in  it, 
and  their  writers  merit  especial  mention.  The 
editorial  conduct  of  the  Series  was  to  me  a  labour  of 
love.  The  success,  and  the  reputation  which  it 
acquired,  compensated  me  for  the  falling  off  in  the 
demand  for  the  "  Penny  Magazine,"  for  which  there 


THE    SECOND   EPOCH.  407 

were  many  causes  ;  particularly  the  extended  sale  of 
newspapers,  and  the  application  of  wood -engravings 
to  their  illustration.  To  close  the  story  of  my 
literary  connection  with  the  Society  for  the  Diffu 
sion  of  Useful  Knowledge,  I  will  here  advert  to 
the  last  days  of  the  popular  miscellany  upon  which 
I  had  laboured  for  fourteen  years. 

The  "Penny  Magazine"  of  the  Society  for  the 
Diffusion  of  Useful  Knowledge  terminated  on  the 
27th  of  December,  1845.  In  1841,  after  the  pub 
lication  of  nine  volumes  of  the  original  form  and 
character,  a  second  series  was  issued,  which  is 
comprised  in  five  volumes.  I  may  truly  say  that 
the  object  of  the  change  was  to  present  to  a  pubiic 
which  had  been  advancing  in  education,  a  Miscellany 
of  a  higher  character  than  the  first  series.  The 
engravings  were  superior ;  the  writing  was  less 
"  ramble-scramble."  There  were  a  series  of  articles 
on  the  great  Italian  painters,  by  Mrs.  Jameson. 
During  three  years  the  factories  of  London  and  the 
country  were  visited  by  Mr.  Dodd  and  a  competent 
artist,  to  provide  descriptions  of  all  our  great  manu 
factories.  Mr.  Thorne  wrote  papers  of  a  topogra 
phical  nature,  which  indicated  the  talent  and 
knowledge  which  he  would  subsequently  display 
in  "Rambles  by  Rivers."  Mr.  Saunders  wrote  a 
series  of  clever  articles  on  "  The  Canterbury  Tales." 
And  yet  the  sale  fell  off.  The  superintendence  of 
the  Society  had  merged  in  my  individual  responsi 
bility  as  editor  when  I  announced  a  new  "Penny 
Magazine."  It  was  thenceforth  to  be  chiefly  a 
magazine  of  reading  ;  woodcuts  no  longer  continuing 
to  be  the  prominent  feature  in  the  work.  I  took 
a  zealous  interest  in  this  little  Miscellany.  In  the 

18 


408  PASSAGES    OF    A    WORKING    LIFE  : 

first  number  I  republished  one  of  Praed's  charming 
Enigmas,  with  an  illustration  by  Harvey.  I  also 
then  commenced  a  series  entitled  "  The  Caricaturist's 
Portrait  Gallery."  John  Wilkes,  by  Hogarth  ; 
Charles  Churchill,  by  Hogarth ;  Lord  North,  as  the 
State-Coachman  asleep ;  Burke  throwing  down  the 
Dagger — these,  with  brief  biographical  notices,  con 
stituted  a  novel  feature,  which  I  would  recommend 
some  weekly  or  monthly  provider  of  light  literature 
to  take  up.  Of  Praed's  Enigmas  I  published 
fourteen.  In  the  desire  to  prevent  the  memory  of 
my  early  friend  from  falling  into  oblivion  amongst 
a  new  generation,  I  gave  "  Some  Specimens  ""  of  his 
writings  in  addition,  with  a  brief  memoir.  In  1839 
this  extraordinary  genius  died  in  the  prime  of  life. 
"Knight's  Penny  Magazine,"  as  the  miscellany 
which  commenced  in  January,  1846,  was  called,  had 
a  short  existence.  In  the  sixth  monthly  part,  I  thus 
announced  its  discontinuance  :  "  The  present  Series 
of  the  '  Penny  Magazine  '  is  closed  after  an  experi 
ment  of  only  six  months.  The  Editor  has  no  reason 
to  complain  of  the  want  of  public  encouragement,  for 
the  sale  of  this  Series  has  exceeded  that  of  its 
predecessor  in  1845.  But  the  sale,  such  as  it  is,  is 
scarcely  remunerating ;  and  there  are  indications 
that  it  may  decline  rather  than  increase.  This  is  a 
hint  which  cannot  be  mistaken.  It  shall  not  be  said 
of  his  humble  efforts  to  continue,  upon  an  equality 
with  the  best  of  his  contemporaries,  a  publication 
which  once  had  a  decided  pre-eminence,  that 

'  Superfluous  lags  the  veteran  on  the  stage." 

He   leaves  this  portion  of  popular  literature  to  be 
cultivated  by  those  whose  new  energy  may  be  worth 


THE    SECOND    EPOCH.  409 

more  than  his  old  experience.  The  '  Penny  Maga 
zine'  shall  begin  and  end  with  him.  It  shall  not 
pass  into  other  hands." 

Three  months  before  I  had  thus  put  an  end  to  my 
participation  in  the  good  or  the  evil  of  the  Penny 
Press,  the  Committee  of  the  Society  for  the  Diffu 
sion  of  Useful  Knowledge  announced  the  suspen 
sion  of  their  operations.  Their  "Address,"  dated 
March  11,  1846,  offered  an  explanation  of  their 
motives  for  this  step.  The  circumstances  attending 
the  publication  of  the  "  Biographical  Dictionary" 
had  led  to  this  determination.  The  Society  had 
undertaken  this  great  work  at  its  own  risk.  It  now 
felt  what  it  was  to  engage  in  a  serial  publication 
that  was  not  likely  to  be  concluded  during  ten  or 
more  years,  and  to  find  the  public  support  altogether 
inadequate  to  defray  its  literary  expenditure.  A 
Society  can  do  what  an  individual  can  not  dare  to 
achieve.  It  could  leave  the  battle-field.  It  was  not 
so  with  me,  when  the  "  Penny  Cyclopaedia "  was 
dragging  me  down.  The  Society  had  a  charter,  and 
might  some  day  renew  its  active  life  : 

"  He  that  fights  and  runs  away, 
May  live  to  fight  another  day." 

Had  I  not  fought  on  to  the  end  of  my  perilous 
commercial  enterprise,  I  should  have  been  disgraced. 
Individual  members  of  the  Committee  subscribed 
liberally  to  keep  on  their  "  Biographical  Dictionary," 
and  no  one  more  generously  than  Earl  Spencer.  Had 
his  death  not  occurred  during  the  struggle  to  meet 
the  loss  of  this  bold  commercial  undertaking,  it  is 
probable  that  the  Society  would  not  have  thus  sung 
its  requiem  : — 


410  PASSAGES    OF    A    WOBKING    LIFE: 

"Though  the  Committee  always  counted  upon 
a  loss,  or  at  the  best  upon  a  deficiency  which  could 
not  be  made  good  until  long  after  the  completion  of 
the  work,  neither  they,  nor  others  more  conversant 
with  the  chances  of  the  bookselling-trade,  were  at 
all  prepared  to  expect  so  large  a  deficiency  as  ap 
peared  by  the  time  the  letter  A  was  completed.  On 
these  seven  half-volumes  the  excess  of  expenditure 
above  receipts  amounts  to  nearly  5000Z.  Of  this  loss, 
more  than  half,  it  appears,  has  been  sustained  by  the 
Society,  and  the  remainder  of  the  subscriptions  and 
donations  which  have  been  announced  from  time  to 
time.  Though  the  first  sale  of  the  work  was  en 
couraging,  as  giving  some  reason  to  hope  that  it 
would  shortly  rise  to  such  a  point  as  might  enable 
the  Committee  to  proceed  steadily  to  the  end,  yet  it 
was  found  that  the  average  rate  of  sale  of  the  seven 
half-volumes  produced  the  defalcation  above  alluded 
to.  And  careful  estimates  showed  that,  under  exist 
ing  circumstances,  an  additional  sum  of  at  least 
15,OOOZ.  must  be  sunk.  A  work  commenced  in  parts 
ought  to  be  continued  to  the  full  extent  which  the 
capital  of  the  undertaker  will  allow.  The  Society 
has  obeyed  this  reasonable  rule,  and  has  exhausted 
its  resources." 

The  Committee  with  perfect  justice  turn  away 
from  the  contemplation  of  one  failure  to  rejoice  over 
a  long  continued  success :  "  The  Society's  work  is 
done,  for  its  greatest  object  is  achieved — fully,  fairly, 
and  permanently.  The  public  is  supplied  with  cheap 
and  good  literature  to  an  extent  which  the  most 
sanguine  friend  of  human  improvement  could  not 
in  1826,  have  hoped  to  have  witnessed  in  twenty 
years." 


THE    SECOND    EPOCH.  411 

But  there  was  a  temporary  evil  to  counterbalance 
this  permanent  success.  All  the  cheap  literature 
was  not  good  at  the  period  of  this  triumphant  re 
trospect.  This  was  a  circumstance  that  was  suffi 
ciently  mortifying  to  those  who,  like  myself,  had 
formed  an  over  sanguine  estimate  of  the  benefit  that 
was  likely  to  result  from  the  general  diffusion  of 
the  ability  to  read.  The  "  Penny  Magazine "  and 
"  Chambers's  Journal "  had,  in  1832,  driven  the 
greater  number  of  noxious  publications  out  of  the 
field.  The  great  body  of  the  people  appeared  satis 
fied  with  good  solid  food,  without  any  inordinate 
craving  for  stale  pastry,  and  with  an  utter  disrelish 
of  offal.  But  a  taste  for  garbage,  cooked  up  for  the 
satisfaction  of  the  lowest  appetite,  seemed  to  have 
returned.  I  made  no  lamentation  over  the  cheapness 
which  had  become  excessive.  I  did  not  regret  that 
there  was  a  competition  going  on  in  cheap  weekly 
publications  which  was  wholly  unprecedented.  In 
1846,  fourteen  penny  and  penny-halfpenny  Maga 
zines,  twelve  Economical  and  Social  Journals,  and 
thirty-seven  weekly  sheets,  forming  separate  books, 
were  to  be  found  in  the  shops  of  many  regular 
booksellers,  and  on  the  counters  of  all  the  small 
dealers  in  periodicals  that  had  started  up  through 
out  the  country.  The  cheapness  was  accomplished 
in  some  by  pilfering  from  every  copyright  work 
that  came  in  their  way.  There  were  very  few  of 
these  publications  whose  writers  were  paid  for  origi 
nal  articles  upon  a  scale  as  liberal  as  that  of  the  best 
reviews  -and  magazines.  There  were  some  of  a  cha 
racter  to  render  the  principle  of  cheapness  dangerous 
and  disgusting.  In  the  concluding  address  of 
"  Knight's  Penny  Magazine/'  I  said :  "  The  editor 


412  PASSAGES    OF    A    WORKING  LIFE: 

rejoices  that  there  are  many  in  the  field,  and  some 
who  have  come  at  the  eleventh  hour,  who  deserve  the 
wages  of  zealous  and  faithful  labourers.  But  there  are 
others  who  are  carrying  out  the  principle  of  cheap 
weekly  sheets,  to  the  disgrace  of  the  system,  and 
who  appear  to  have  got  some  considerable  hold 
upon  the  less-informed  of  the  working  people,  and 
especially  upon  the  young.  There  are  manufactories 
in  London  whence  hundreds  of  reams  of  vile  paper  and 
printing  issue  weekly  ;  where  large  bodies  of  children 
are  employed  to  arrange  types,  at  the  wages  of 
shirt-makers,  from  copy  furnished  by  the  most 
ignorant,  at  the  wages  of  scavengers.  In  truth,  such 
writers,  if  they  deserve  the  name  of  writers,  are 
scavengers.  All  the  garbage  that  belongs  to  the 
history  of  crime  and  misery  is  raked  together,  to 
diffuse  a  moral  miasma  through  the  land,  in  the 
shape  of  the  most  vulgar  and  brutal  fiction.  '  Penny 
Magazines,'  and  '  Edinburgh  Journals/  and  '  Weekly 
Instructors,'  and  'People's  Journals/  have  little 
chance  of  circulation  amongst  the  least-informed 
class,  who  most  require  sound  knowledge,  while  the 
cheap  booksellers'  shops  are  filled  with  such  things 
as '  Newgate,  a  Romance/  '  The  Black  Mantle,  or  the 
Murder  at  the  old  Jewry/  '  The  Spectre  of  the  Hall/ 
'  The  Love-Child/  '  The  Feast  of  Blood/  '  The  Con 
vict/  and  twenty  others,  all  of  the  same  exciting 
character  to  the  young  and  ignorant.  But  the  detri 
mental  exercise  of  the  printing-press  is  only  to  be 
met  by  its  wholesome  employment.  He  has  no  fear 
for  the  righteous  cause  of  cheap  literature." 

My  conviction  that  the  cheap  press  would  purify 
itself  was  realised  in  another  decade.  I  had  given  a 
name  to  the  wholesome  literature  for  the  people, 


THE    SECOND    EPOCH..  413 

"The  Fountain"— the  noxious  I  had  called  "The 
Sewer."  But  I  contended,  as  I  had  ever  done,  that 
the  Paper  Duty  was  an  insurmountable  barrier  to 
the  diffusion  of  publications  that  should  combine  the 
qualities  of  literary  excellence  and  extreme  cheap 
ness.  I  maintained  that  to  thrust  out  the  noxious 
publications,  the  supply  of  the  higher  class  must  be 
abundant ;  the  quality  of  the  writing  must  be  of  the 
best,  for  to  write  well  for  the  people  is  the  rarest, 
of  literary  qualifications ;  lastly,  the  price  must  as 
nearly  as  possible  approach  to  the  cost  of  the  mis 
chievous  production.  Whatever  interferes  with  the 
circulation  of  the  higher  periodicals  by  increasing 
their  price — whatever  tends  to  render  a  false  economy 
necessary,  by  lowering  their  payment  for  the  best 
literary  labour — interferes  with  one  of  the  most  im 
portant  instruments  of  National  Education,  using 
the  term  in  its  highest  sense.  Such  were  the  inju 
rious  consequences  of  the  Paper  Duty.  That  long 
disputed  question  has  now  been  settled.  The  total 
repeal  of  this  impost  took  place  after  my  commercial 
career  was  in  a  great  degree  closed.  How  this  tax 
weighed  me  down  in  the  production  of  the  "  Penny 
Cyclopaedia,"  I  have  related  in  a  pamphlet  of  1850, 
which  was  often  quoted  in  Parliament,  and  which 
has  some  interest  as  a  matter  of  literary  history.  I 
give  the  most  material  passage  as  a  Note  to  this 
Chapter. 


NOTE  TO   CHAPTER  XX. 


EXTRACT  FROM   "  THE   STRUGGLES   OF  A  BOOK  AGAINST 
EXCESSIVE  TAXATION."  BY  CHARLES  KNIGHT.   1850. 

ON  the  1st  of  January,  1833,  I  commenced  the  publica 
tion  of  THE  PENNY  CYCLOPAEDIA,  in  Numbers  and  Monthly 
Parts. 

This  work  was  entirely  original.  It  was  projected  by 
myself,  and  published  under  the  Superintendence  of  the 
Society  for  the  Diffusion  of  Useful  Knowledge.  But  the 
entire  cost  and  risk  were  borne  by  me.  The  total  cost  for 
Literature  and  Engravings  was  42,000?. 

The  Penny  Cyclopaedia  and  its  Supplement  were  com 
pleted  in  1846.  The  two  works  contain  15,764  pages,  and 
the  quantity  of  Paper  required  to  produce  a  single  copy  is 
2  Reams,  each  weighing  35  Ibs.  At  the  period  of  its  com 
pletion,  the  entire  quantity  of  Paper  consumed  in  the  work 
was  FIFTY  THOUSAND  REAMS,  the  total  weight  of  which 
amounted  to  ONE  MILLION  SEVEN  HUNDRED  AND  FIFTY 
THOUSAND  POUNDS.  Of  this  weight  20,000  Reams,  or 
700,000  Ibs.,  paid  the  Excise  Duty  of  Threepence  per  lb., 
amounting  to  8750?.  ;  and  the  remaining  30,000  Reams 
paid  the  reduced  Duty  of  Three-halfpence  per  lb.  (commenc 
ing  in  1837)  upon  1,050,000  Ibs.,  amounting  to  6562?. 
The  total  Duty  paid  up  to  the  completion  of  the  Cyclopaedia, 
in  1846,  was  15,312?.  Since  that  period  2000  Reams  of 
Paper  have  been  used  in  reprinting,  to  correct  the  inequali 
ties  of  the  Stock,  making  an  addition  of  70,000  Ibs.,  excised 
at  437?.  But  further,  the  Wrappers  for  the  Monthly  Parts 
have  used  1500  Reams  of  Paper,  taxed  at  500?.,  and  the 
Milled  Boards  employed  in  binding  the  Volumes  have  been 
also  taxed  about  300?.  THE  TOTAL  PAYMENT  TO  THE 


416  NOTE. 

EXCISE  BY  THE  PENNY  CYCLOPAEDIA  HAS  BEEN   SIXTEEN 
THOUSAND  FIVE  HUNDRED  POUNDS. 

I  propose  to  show, — 

1.  That  this  excessive  burthen  upon  the  great  work  to 
which   I  have   devoted  seventeen  years  of  toil  and 
anxiety,  has   been  the  primary  cause  that  the  enter 
prise  has  not  yet  been  remunerative. 

2.  That  the  continuance   of  the   Paper  Duty,  at  the 
present  rate  of  Three-halfpence  per  lb.,  prevents  me 
undertaking  the  publication  of  a  new  and  improved 
edition,  upon  its  first  plan  of  a  continuous  alphabe~ 
tical  arrangement. 

1.  The  positive  burthen  of  Sixteen  thousand  five  hundred 
Pounds  imposed  by  the  State  upon  the  publication  of  one 
book,  is  far  from  representing  the  difficulty  and  loss  which 
that  payment  has  entailed  upon  the  undertaking. 

It  is  well  known  that  the  amount  of  a  duty  upon  raw 
material  by  no  means  represents  the  amount  of  the  charge 
which  it  entails  upon  the  manufacturer.  Mr.  MacCulloch 
and  Mr.  Porter  rightly  state  that  the  price  for  a  ream  of 
one  particular  sort  of  printing  paper  was  in  1831,  twenty- 
four  shillings, — in  1843,  fifteen  shillings  and  sixpence. 
From  1833  to  1837,  the  price  of  a  Ream  of  Penny  Cyclo 
paedia  Paper  was  thirty-three  shillings  ;  from  1838  to  1846, 
it  was  twenty-four  shillings.  The  difference  in  price  was 
nine  shillings  per  ream  ;  the  amount  of  reduced  duty  was 
four  shillings  and  fourpence  halfpenny.  The  paper-makers 
and  the  stationers  doubled  the  tax.*  But  even  at  the 
reduced  rate  it  has  been  satisfactorily  shown  by  my  fellow- 
labourers,  the  Messrs.  Chambers,  that  the  Duty  enters  one- 
third  into  price.  Unquestionably,  if  the  Duty  were  now 
removed,  I  could  buy  a  Ream  of  similar  paper  for  seventeen 
shillings.  The  tax,  preventing  competition,  and  giving 

*  "Whatever  renders  a  larger  capital  necessary  in  any  trade  or 
business,  limits  .the  competition  in  that  business ;  and  by  giving 
something  like  a  monopoly  to  a  few  dealers,  enables  them  to  keep 
up  the  price  beyond  what  would  afford  the  ordinary  rate  of  profit." 
—John  Mill,  Principles  of  Political  Economy,  vol.  ii.  p.  388.  If 
the  tax  annihilates  profits  in  a  secondary  process,  such  as  the  con 
version  of  paper  into  books,  it  is  easy  to  understand  how  the 
monopoly  becomes  complete. 


NOTE.  417 

undue  advantages  to  capitalists,  had  the  effect  of  making 
me  pay  for  my  Paper,  from  1833  to  1837,  sixteen  shillings 
a  Ream  more  than  the  price  of  untaxed  Paper  would  be,  or 
Sixteen  thousand  Pounds  upon  20,000  Reams  ;  and  from 
1838  to  1846,  seven  shillings  per  Ream  more  than  I  should 
otherwise  have  paid,  which  upon  30,000  Reams  amounts  to 
Ten  thousand  five  hundred  Pounds.  The  tax  therefore 
operated  as  a  burthen  upon  my  publication  to  the  extent  of 
TWENTY-SIX  THOUSAND  FIVE  HUNDRED  POUNDS,  during  its 
long  and  difficult  progress  to  completion.  The  paper  since 
used  for  Reprints,  and  the  paper  for  Wrappers,  has  been 
raised  in  price  2500?.  by  the  same  process. 

The  Struggles  of  one  Book  against  excessive  Taxation  are,  up 
to  this  point,  to  be  measured  by  a  burthen  of  TWENTY-NINE 
THOUSAND  POUNDS. 

But  I  have  not  yet  done.  The  tax  has  been  working 
against  the  Penny  Cyclopaedia  for  seventeen  years,  in  the 
chronic  form  of  interest  and  compound  interest. 

It  was  very  long  before  the  periodical  sale  settled  into  a 
regular  quantity.  The  work  became  too  extensive  for  the 
great  bulk  of  purchasers.  For  the  first  few  months  of  the 
publication  the  sale  was  double  what  it  was  at  the  end  of 
the  first  year.  The  sale  of  the  first  year  doubled  that  of 
the  fourth  year.  The  sale  of  the  fourth  year  doubled  that 
of  the  eighth  year, — and  then  it  found  its  level  and  became 
steady  to  the  end,  reduced  from  55,000  at  the  commence 
ment,  to  20,000  at  the  conclusion.  Every  publisher  of  a 
periodical  work  knows  the  accumulation  of  Stock  that  must 
inevitably  take  place  with  a  falling  demand.  There  never 
was  a  period  after  the  third  year  at  which  I  had  less  than 
Five  thousand  Reams  of  the  Penny  Cyclopaedia  in  my 
Warehouse  ;  upon  which  Duty  had  been  paid,  for  some 
portion  at  the  high  duty,  and  for  some  at  the  low,  averaging 
1500?.  In  1841  there  were  in  my  Warehouse  1200  Reams 
upon  which  the  high  duty,  expiring  in  1837,  had  been  paid. 
I  consider  the  accumulating  interest  in  this  investment,  in 
actually  paid  Duty,  upon  dead  Stock,  to  have  amounted,  in 
the  seventeen  years  during  which  I  have  been  labouring  to 
sell  that  Stock,  to  1500?.,  and  including  the  interest  upon 
the  extra  price  charged  by  the  paper-manufacturer  upon  the 
Duty,  to  3000?. 

And  here,  then,  will  the  usual  conclusion  arise,  that  the 


418  NOTE. 

Publisher  has  not  boriue  this  load  of  Thirty-two  thousand 
Pounds  imposed  by  the  State  upon  the  Penny  Cyclopaedia, 
but  the  purchasers  of  the  Penny  Cyclopaedia.  My  answer 
is  very  direct.  Had  that  sum  of  32,000?.  been  actually 
saved  to  me,  I  should  not  have  been  a  pound  richer  by  the 
publication  of  the  Penny  Cyclopaedia.  But  with  the  saving 
I  should  not  have  been  to  that  amount  poorer.  The 
outlay  was  so  great,  that  it  could  never  pay  its  expenses 
under  a  sale  of  36,000  copies  with  the  high  duty.  In  the 
first  five  years  that  average  number  was  printed  ;  but  the 
accumulation  of  Stock  locked  up  10,000?.  Under  the  low 
duty  it  paid  its  expenses  at  30,000  copies.  The  actual 
average  sale  during  the  nine  years  of  that  duty  was  20,000. 
It  would  have  required  that  there  should  have  been  no 
Paper  Duty  at  all  to  have  paid  its  expenses  on  a  sale  of 
20,000.  Had  the  Duty  not  been  reduced  by  one-half  at 
the  end  of  1836,  I  could  not  by  any  possibility  have  carried 
on  the  work.  As  it  was,  I  struggled  to  the  end. 

2.  The  reduced  Paper  Duty,  as  I  have  undertaken  to 
show,  prevents  me  making  the  best  use  of  the  valuable 
Copyright  which  remains  to  me, — now  that  the  accumulated 
Stock  is  in  great  part  exhausted. 

I  was  advised  to  propose  a  Subscription  for  an  entirely 
new  Edition.  The  highest  Personage  in  the  realm  accorded 
me  Her  support,  and  so  did  Her  admirable  Consort,  who  is 
doing  for  Science  and  Industry  what  is  worth  far  more  than 
any  money  value.  Some  of  the  most  eminent  in  the  walks 
of  intellect  also  came  forward  to  aid  me.  Of  the  support  of 
the  Members  of  the  Legislature  which  taxed  me  during 
fourteen  years,  I  have  not  much  to  boast.  I  have  given  up 
the  design.  Upon  a  sale  that  would  have  merely  returned 
my  new  outlay,  the  Paper  Duty  would  have  burtheried  the 
work  to  the  extent  of  3000?.  Its  abandonment  would  have 
lightened  my  risk  to  the  extent  of  making  the  work  yield 
me  as  high  a  profit  from  3000  subscribers,  as  from  4000 
subscribers  with  the  Duty  continued.  With  this  encourage 
ment  I  should  have  gone  on. 

There  is  a  steady  demand  for  the  existing  edition  of  the 
Penny  Cyclopaedia,  to  the  extent  of  250  Sets  annually. 
The  Paper  Duty  prevents  me  meeting  this  demand  with  any 
moderate  commercial  profit.  The  technical  explanation  is 
not  difficult  to  be  understood  : — If  I  print  250  Copies  only 


NOTE.  419 

— I  use  500  Reams  of  Paper,  of  which  the  Duty  is  4s.  6d 
each,  and  the  necessary  increase  of  manufacturer's  price 
2s.  6c?.,  making  a  charge,  arising  out  of  the  Duty,  of  7s. 
per  Ream,  or  175?.  upon  250  Copies.  But  in  printing  only 
250  Copies  I  have  to  pay  for  the  Presswork,  as  high  as  15s. 
per  Ream  ;  whereas  if  I  printed  500,  I  should  only  pay  10s. 
As  the  number  of  a  book  first  printed  increases,  the  cost  of 
Presswork,  or  Machine-work,  diminishes  ;  and  for  this  rea 
son  a  tax  upon  the  raw  material  of  a  book,  Paper,  increasing 
the  risk  of  printing  a  large  impression,  compels  a  smaller 
impression,  at  a  higher  cost.  But  if  there  were  no  Paper 
Duty,  I  should  print  500  Copies,  by  which  I  should  save 
350?.  in  the  price  of  Paper,  and  250?.  in  the  price  of  Press- 
work  ;  making  a  saving  of  600?.  This  outlay  of  600?.  is 
imposed  upon  me  absolutely  by  the  existence  of  the  Paper 
Duty  ;  and  that  fact  will  possibly  compel  me  to  give  up 
reprinting  a  Book  which  has  done  more  for  the  advancement 
of  sound  knowledge  and  general  education  in  these  kingdoms, 
than  any  work  ever  produced  in  any  country.  That  600?. 
saved  would  afford  me  an  income  which  would  allow  me  to 
invest  capital  in  such  a  Reprint.  Printing  only  250  Copies 
at  the  present  price  of  Paper,  a  set  of  this  book  would  cost 
me  1000?.  My  net  profit  upon  that  outlay  would  not  be 
1 0  per  cent. 

And  -with  all  this  danger  and  difficulty — with  "  this  lion 
in  my  path  " — I  am  not  yet  beaten.  I  have  my  valuable 
copyright  of  the  Penny  Cyclopaedia  remaining  to  me  ;  and 
I  have  passed  many  an  anxious  hour  in  seeing  how  I  can 
best  turn  it  to  account.  I  am  about  to  publish  a  Series  of 
separate  Cyclopcedias,  with  large  improvements,  and  I  begin 
with  a  '  Cyclopaedia  of  British  Geography,'  and  a  '  Cyclopaedia 
of  Arts  and  Industry.'  Let  me  show  the  exact  track  which 
"  the  lion  in  my  path"  drives  me  to  seek  ;  and  then  some 
of  those  legislators  who  find  that  a  fashionable  novel,  sold 
at  a  guinea  and  a  half,  pays  about  fourpence  Paper  Duty, 
and  thence  conclude  that  it  is  the  lightest  of  taxes,  and  by 
all  means  should  be  preserved — especially  as  books,  as  they 
hold,  are  not  necessaries  of  life —  some  of  those  who 

"  Hate  not  learning  worse  than  toad  or  asp-" 
may  know   what  it  is  to  maintain  a  tax  upon  knowledge, 


420  NOTE. 

struggling  to  preserve  its  high  rank  and  its  useful  extension 
amidst  the  widest  competition  of  cheapness. 

Upon  these  four  volumes,  estimated  to  contain  about  3000 
pages,  I  shall  expend  1500?.  upon  new  editorial  labour.  I 
shall  further  expend  about  1000?.  upon  new  plates  and 
maps.  The  printer's  charge  for  setting  up  the  types  will  be 
8001  ;  and  the  cost  of  stereotyping  will  be  500?.  Add  for 
advertising  200?.  ;  and  I  have  thus  to  expend  4000?.  as  a 
first  outlay,  whether  I  sell  500  copies  or  5000.  At  the 
present  cost  of  paper,  3000  copies  (the  least  number  I  could 
print  with  advantage)  will  amount  to  1500?.  ;  the  Press- 
work  will  cost  500?.  :  total  6000?.  The  3000  copies,  pro 
duced  upon  this  scale,  will  exactly  cover  my  outlay,  without 
a  shilling  profit.  But  let  us  see  how  the  account  would 
stand  with  the  price  of  paper  reduced  one-third  by  the  abo 
lition  of  the  duty.  My  course  would  then  be  to  print  4000 
copies,  and  not  stereotype,  which  process  is  chiefly  employed 
to  save  the  outlay  of  capital  in  taxed  paper.  The  first  out 
lay  is  therefore  3500?.  ;  the  Paper  for  4000  Copies,  at  the 
lower  untaxed  price,  would  cost  me  1333?.  ;  the  Presswork 
600?.  (reduced  per  ream  on  account  of  the  larger  number). 
I  produce,  therefore,  4000  copies  for  5433?.,  instead  of  3000 
copies  for  6000?.  I  expend  less  by  567?.,  and  I  have  1000 
copies  left  to  sell  for  my  profit.  I  could  sell  4000  copies, 
under  these  circumstances,  more  easily  than  3000  as  1  now 
stand,  for  I  could  afford  to  advertise  more  freely,  and  to 
offer  higher  inducements  to  retailers.  This  is  something 
different  from  a  fourpenny  tax  upon  a  fashionable  novel. 


PASSAGES  OF  A  WORKING  LIFE. 


CHAPTEE  XXI. 


HE  greater  portion  of  my  Second  Epoch 
was  written  at  Ventnor,  in  the  Isle  of 
Wight.  I  had  spent  the  winter  there 
with  my  family,  and  quitted  it  when  the 
spring  seemed  at  once  passing  into  summer,  and 
there  was  such  an  outburst  of  leaf  and  blossom  as 
I  had  rarely  witnessed  in  the  early  days  of  May. 
What  a  region  of  beauty  is  the  Undercliff  in  all 
seasons.  Winter  rarely  touches  it  with  an  icy  finger. 
When  "  yellow  leaves,  or  none,  or  few  "  hang  upon 
the  boughs  that  mingle  with  fallen  crags,  their  bare 
ness  is  hidden  by  the  glossy  ivy.  In  March  it  is  a 
land  of  evergreens ;  in  June  a  land  of  "  flowers  of 
all  hues."  It  is  scarcely  a  place  in  which  to  pass 
"  a  working  life ; "  but  it  is  a  place  in  which  it  is 
good  to  look  back  upon  the  turmoil  of  such  a  life — 
its  vain  cares,  its  disappointed  hopes, — and  to  see 
what  was  once  deemed  the  highest  good  fading  into 
nothingness,  and  the  instant  evil  melting  into  a 
twilight  in  which  good  and  evil  wear  the  same  pas 
sionless  and  almost  shapeless  features.  We  unwil 
lingly  left  the  Undercliff,  which  had  long  been  to  me 
a  spot  sacred  to  friendship,  when  the  friend  was  a 
perennial  source  of  delight  to  all  who  had  the  happi 
ness  to  know  him.  It  has  become  to  me  even  more 
sacred,  now  that  he  lies  in  the  most  beautiful  of 
churchyards,  that  of  his  long-loved  Bonchurch. 


424  PASSAGES   OF   A  WORKING   LIFE: 

We  moved  for  the  summer  to  a  very  different 
scene,  but  one,  to  my  mind,  equally  attractive.  I 
commence  the  story  of  my  Third  Epoch  on  the  banks 
of  the  Thames,  above  Kingston.  We  are  the  tenants 
of  an  artist,  whose  spacious  and  quaint  studio  where 
I  write  is  fitted  by  its  seclusion  for  calling  up  the 
most  abstracted  memories  of  the  Past.  The  river 
flows  rapidly  beneath  my  window,  under  the  shadow 
of  lofty  elms  which  have  flourished  for  a  century, 
and  by  gay  villas  which  proclaim  the  changes  which 
have  marked  the  era  of  rapid  communication.  And 
yet  the  Present  is  constantly  in  view,  in  the  con 
tinuous  stream  of  human  life,  which  appears  to  move 
on  as  if  it  were  always  "  a  sunshine  holiday." 

There  was  no  lack  of  abundant  materials  for  the 
new  series,  in  copyrights  in  which  I  had  an  interest. 
Some  might  be  reprinted  without  alteration,  others 
could  be  adapted  by  their  writers.  Lord  Brougham's 
Statesmen  of  the  Time  of  George  the  Third  ;  his 
Dialogues  on  Instinct,  and  his  edition  of  Paley's 
Natural  Theology,  were  of  this  character.  Mr. 
Lane's  Modern  Egyptians,  and  Sir  John  Davis's 
Manners  and  Customs  of  the  Chinese,  were  in  the 
same  way  valuable  works,  expensive  in  their  original 
form,  now  brought  down  to  the  lowest  cost.  Mr. 
Craik,  out  of  the  extension  of  his  chapters  on  Lite 
rature  in  the  Pictorial  History  of  England,  produced 
six  valuable  little  volumes,  which  have  since  been 
reprinted,  as  they  well  deserve  to  be,  in  a  more 
costly  shape  for  the  library.  One  of  the  most 
original  and  important  works  in  this  series  was  the 
Biographical  History  of  Ancient  and  Modern  Philo 
sophy  by  Mr.  G.  H.  Lewes.  In  this  series  I  included 
several  summaries  of  great  writers,  such  as  Spenser 
and  Bacon,  by  Mr.  Craik ;  Moliere  and  Racijie,  by 


THE   THIRD   EPOCH.  425 

Madame  Blaz  de  Bury ;  Chaucer,  by  Mr.  John 
Saunders  ;  Hudibras,  by  Mr.  Ramsay.  The  small 
comparative  sale  of  such  volumes  was  to  me  a 
tolerably  satisfactory  proof  that  abridgments  and 
analyses  of  standard  authors  are  not  likely  to  be 
successful.  Unless  important  works  are  inaccessible 
from  their  rarity  or  their  bulk,  the  greater  number 
of  readers — and  these  perhaps  are  the  more  judicious 
— are  ill-content  with  hashes  and  essences. 

Amongst  the  original  works  was  one  which  was  an 
exception  to  the  general  character  of  the  books  in 
my  series,  which  for  the  most  part  carried  the 
recommendation  of  popular  names  as  their  authors. 
This  was  "  Memoirs  of  a  Working  Man."  It  was 
writen  by  a  tailor  of  the  name  of  Carter.  He  was 
the  author  of  one  of  the  little  books  published  by 
Knight  and  Co.,  called  the  "  Guide  to  Trade,"  and 
had  been  recommended  to  me  in  1840  as  a  highly 
deserving  man,  carrying  on  a  little  business  for 
himself,  with  a  dependent  family,  and  struggling 
with  the  severest  ill  health.  In  the  introduction 
which  I  wrote  to  the  "  Memoirs  of  a  Working  Man," 
I  stated  that  when  the  author  brought  to  me  his 
manuscript,  which  he  wished  to  be  published  by 
subscription,  I  carefully  read  his  simple  record  of  an 
uneventful  life,  advised  him  to  curtail  such  parti 
culars  as  could  only  be  interesting  to  himself  and 
his  family,  but  on  no  account  to  suppress  what  would 
be  interesting  to  all — the  history  of  the  formation  of 
his  habits  of  thought,  and  thence  of  his  system  of 
conduct — the  development  of  his  intellectual  and 
moral  life.  In  conclusion  I  said  :  "  Upon  receiving 
the  Manuscript  thus  altered  and  completed,  I  pro 
posed  to  publish  it  in  the  Weekly  Volume.  This  is 


426  PASSAGES    OF  A  WORKING    LIFE. 

the  extent  of  my  editorial  duty.  I  have  not  added, 
nor  have  I  altered,  a  single  word.  The  purity  of  its 
style  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  characteristics  of 
this  little  book." 

The  series  of  the  Weekly  Volume,  although  it  did 
not  involve  any  considerable  loss,  was  certainly  not  a 
commercial  success.  "  Why  Mr.  Knight  did  not  profit 
largely  by  the  speculation,  is  a  problem  yet  to  be 
solved,"  said  the  writer  of  a  paper  on  "  Literature  for 
the  People."  The  solution  was  that  the  people  did 
not  sufficiently  buy  the  series.  There  were  not 
twenty  volumes  that  reached  a  sale  of  ten  thousand, 
and  the  average  sale  was  scarcely  five  thousand. 
Although  very  generally  welcomed  by  many  who  were 
anxious  for  the  enlightenment  of  the  humbler  classes, 
the  humbler  classes  themselves  did  not  find  in  them 
the  mental  aliment  for  which  they  hungered.  They 
wanted  fiction,  and  the  half  dozen  historical  novelets 
of  the  series  were  not  of  the  exciting  kind  which  in 
a  few  years  became  the  staple  product  of  the  cheap 
press.  It  was  perhaps  as  useless  as  it  was  unwise  ta 
battle  against  this  growing  taste,  which  was  not 
limited  to  hard-handed  mechanics  and  their  families. 
In  1854,  when  I  was  inclined  to  think  too  harshly  of 
the  popular  appetite  for  fiction,  which  was  stimulated 
by  the  coarsely  seasoned  food  of  such  publications  as 
the  'London  Journal/  Mr.  Dickens  remonstrated  with 
me  in  the  most  earnest  and  affectionate  spirit.  I 
extract  from  a  letter  of  his.  marked  by  his  accustomed 
good  sense,  a  passage  which  deserves  the  serious 
consideration  of  those  who  look  too  severely  upon 
the  exuberance  of  this  species  of  popular  literature. 
"  The  English  are,  so  far  as  I  know,  the  hardest 
worked  people  on  whom  the  sun  shines.  Be  con- 


THE   THIRD   EPOCH.  427 

tent  if  in  their  wretched  intervals  of  leisure  they 
read  for  amusement  and  do  no  worse.  They  are 
born  at  the  oar,  and  they  live  and  die  at  it.  Good 
God,  what  would  we  have  of  them ! " 

At  the  time  of  the  issue  of  the  Weekly  Volume, 
the  sale  of  books  at  railway  stations  was  unknown. 
Seven  years  afterwards  it  had  become  universal. 
Then,  in  the  vicinity  of  great  towns  where  there  was 
a  railway  station,  the  shelves  of  the  newspaper  vender 
were  filled  with  shilling  volumes  known  as  the  '  Par 
lour  Library,'  '  The  Popular  Library,'  '  The  Kailway 
Library,'  '  The  Shilling  Series.'  In  their  bulk  of 
thin  paper  and  close  printing  they  would  appear 
to  be  twice  as .  cheap  as  my  volumes,  but,  except  in 
very  rare  instances,  they  had  involved  no  expense  of 
copyright.  In  a  few  years,  a  most  remarkable  de 
velopment  of  cheapness  in  books,  especially  in  works 
of  fiction,  was  accomplished  without  "  the  great  dam 
age  of  the  circulating  libraries."  Wonderful  organi 
zations  of  the  circulating  library  system  presented  a 
far  greater  encouragement  to  original  authorship 
than  at  the  period  when  the  few  rich  purchased  books 
for  their  sole  use.  The  day  of  furniture  books  was 
almost  past.  When  the  circulating  libraries  had 
done  their  work  of  "the  season,"  then  came  the 
cheap  reprint.  This  was  the  crucial  test  of  an 
author's  popularity.  My  work  as  a  publisher  was 
finished  before  these  times  arrived,  which  are  certainly 
more  favourable  for  publishing  enterprise  than  those 
of  my  own  commercial  experience. 

Somewhat  before  the  commencement  of  the 
Weekly  Volume,  I  was  engaged  for  several  years 
in  the  publication  of  a  series  of  popular  books  which 
had  a  very  large  sale,  but  were  little  known  to  the 


428  PASSAGES   OP    A   WORKING   LIFE: 

general  reading  public.  They  were  picture  books, 
especially  adapted  for  sale,  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
the  great  manufacturing  towns  and  other  populous 
districts,  by  the  class  of  book-hawkers  known  as 
canvassers.  There  were  four  books,  forming  seven 
volumes  in  folio,  which  I  included  under  the  generic 
name  of  "  The  New  Orbis  Pictus,"  in  imitation  of 
that  work  of  Comenius,  which,  after  the  lapse  of 
two  centuries,  still  holds  its  place  amongst  the 
educational  books  of  continental  Europe.  That 
work,  which  was  once  amongst  the  most  popular 
of  books,  originally  contained  several  hundred  rude 
wood  cuts  with  appropriate  descriptions.  My  series 
comprised  the  following  separate  books :  "  Pictorial 
Museum  of  Animated  Nature:"  "Pictorial  Sunday- 
Book:"  "  Old  England :"  "  Pictorial  Gallery  of  Arts." 
I  told  the  public  that  what  the  Orbis  Pictus  had 
imperfectly  accomplished  was  fully  carried  out  in 
this  series,  in  which  was  accumulated  the  largest 
body  of  eye-knowledge  that  had  ever  been  brought 
together,  consisting  in  the  whole  of  twelve  thousand 
engravings.  It  is  satisfactory  to  me  to  think  that 
these  books  may  have  presented  to  some  portions 
of  the  population — who  without  the  canvasser's  im 
portunity  would  never  have  expended  a  monthly 
shilling  upon  literature — sources  of  instruction  and 
amusement  as  various  and  extensive  as  my  general 
title  implies — The  Pictorial  World.  Of  this  series 
I  was  necessarily  the  editor.  The  descriptions  in 
each  book  were  for  the  most  part  confided  to  persons 
of  literary  habits  and  competent  knowledge— these 
were,  Mr.  "William  C.  L.  Martin  for  Natural  His 
tory,  Dr.  Kitto  for  Sacred  History,  Mr.  Dodd  for 


THE    THIKD    EPOCH.  429 

the  Useful  Arts,  Mr.  Wornum  for  the  Fine  Arts, 
and  Mr.  John  Saunders  for  our  National  Anti 
quities.  I  must  mention,  however,  that  the  first 
Book  of  "Old  England"  and  part  of  the  second, 
were  written  by  myself.  At  the  period  of  its 
publication  there  was  an  awakening  feeling  for  the 
preservation  of  our  historical  monuments.  The 
barbarous  neglect  which  had  permitted  so  many 
druidioal  remains,  such  as  Abury,  to  be  in  great 
part  destroyed ;  so  many  traces  of  the  Eoman  occu 
pation  to  be  buried ;  and  so  many  of  the  noble  eccle 
siastical  edifices  of  the  Norman  era  to  be  defaced  ; 
this  ignorant  apathy  was  rapidly  giving  place  to  a 
just  reverence  for  the  past 


CHAPTEE  XXII. 


N  1847  I  commenced  editing  and  publish 
ing,  in  monthly  parts,  a  work  which 
furnished  me  with  a  really  delightful 
occupation  for  fifty-two  weeks.  "Half- 
Hours  with  the  Best  Authors,  Selected  and  Ar 
ranged,  with  Short  Biographical  and  Critical  No 
tices,"  has  had,  and  still  has,  so  large  a  circulation 
that  it  is  unnecessary  for  me  to  describe  the 
character  of  a  book  so  universally  known.  The 
complete  work  contains  specimens  of  three  hundred 
various  writers,  of  which  number  about  forty  were 
living  at  the  period  of  its  publication.  From  many 
of  these,  his  contemporaries,  the  editor  received 
permission  to  borrow  some  connected  extracts  from 
their  writings  which  would  occupy  about  half  an 
hour's  ordinary  reading.  Judging  from  the  warm 
expressions  of  the  greater  number  of  these  writers, 
even  the  most  eminent  felt  something  of  satisfaction 
in  being  included  amongst  the  standard  authors  who 
have  built  up  the  greatest  literature  of  the  modern 
world.  In  a  postscript  I  thus  spoke  of  my  "short 
biographical  notices ;" — "  Their  brevity  must  ne 
cessarily  render  them  incomplete  and  unsatisfactory ; 
but  they  have  not  been  written  without  serious 
thought  and  an  earnest  desire  to  be  just.  There  are 
many  who  will  differ  from  the  Editor  in  his  estimate 
of  some  writers,  particularly  of  the  more  recent. 


THE    THIRD    EPOCH.  431 

Dickens  I  described  as  "one  who  came  to  fill  up 
the  void  which  Scott  had  left."  Of  Tennyson, 
who  at  the  present  day  has  sent  Byron  into  the 
shade,  I  wrote  in  1848 — "He  has  not  published 
much,  he  does  not  live  upon  the  breath  of  popular 
applause,  but  he  has  more  ardent  admirers  than  any 
living  poet,  with  the  exception  of  Wordsworth." 

As  I  open  the  four  volumes  of  Half-Hours  and 
review  the  short  notices  of  contemporaries,  I  find 
amongst  them  many  with  whom  I  have  had  the 
transient  pleasure  of  an  occasional  acquaintance  or 
the  happiness  of  a  continued  friendly  intercourse. 
Let  me  mention  a  few  of  each  class,  taking  the 
names,  for  the  most  part,  in  the  order  in  which  they 
present  themselves  in  "  Half-Hours." 

I  have  met  Walter  Savage  Landor  at  the  table  of 
a  common  friend.  Although  he  was  then  a  septua 
genarian  (I  read  his  Count  Julian  when  I  was  a  boy), 
he  was  in  the  full  vigour  of  his  understanding.  The 
variety  and  richness  of  his  knowledge  were  as  mani 
fest  in  his  real  as  in  his  "  Imaginary  Conversations." 
He  could  sustain  a  literary  discussion  with  wonderful 
acuteness  and  felicity  of  illustration.  Sometimes 
indeed  with  a  leaven  of  those  paradoxical  opinions, 
in  which  he  seemed  to  delight  with  a  wilfulness  of 
exaggeration.  Whilst  I  write  this,  his  death  is  re 
corded  at  the  age  of  ninety.  Dickens  has  painted 
him,  with  scarcely  any  exaggeration,  in  his  "  Boycroft." 
Leigh  Hunt  could  have  known  nothing  of  the  early 
friend  of  Southey  when,  in  the  "  Feast  of  the  Poets," 
he  termed  him,  "  one  Mr.  Landor,"  and  made  his 
name  rhyme  with  "  gander." 

Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge,  I  never  saw  but  once. 
It  was  about  the  time  when  he  first  went  to  dwell 
with  Mr.  Gillman  at  Highgate.  To  me,  then  a  very 
19 


432  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING    LIFE: 

young  man,  the  outpourings  of  his  mighty  volume  of 
words  seemed  something  more  than  eloquence  ;  and 
I  went  away  half  crazed  by  his  expositions  of  the 
power  of  the  human  will  in  producing  such  effects 
upon  matter  as  were  once  ascribed  to  magic.  We 
are  more  familiar  in  the  present  day  with  wonders 
such  as  some  of  those  he  had  seen  or  heard  of  in 
Germany;  but  his  belief  that  the  magnetic  needle 
would  follow  the  finger  of  a  bared  hand  and  arm,  did 
not  perhaps  demand  so  great  an  exercise  of  faith  as 
the  stately  walks  of  dining  tables  and  the  nimble 
dances  of  arm  chairs.  The  Cagliostros  of  the  human 
race  have  ever  been  a  thriving  family.  Coleridge  died 
in  1834.  I  went  to  live  at  Highgate  the  year  after. 
During  a  few  years'  friendly  intercourse  with  Mr. 
Gillman  and  his  most  amiable  and  intelligent  wife, 
I  was  deeply  impressed  with  the  ascendancy  which  a 
man  of  the  highest  genius  can  obtain  over  those 
with  whom  he  is  brought  into  daily  contact.  Their 
tastes  were  in  some  respects  essentially  different  from 
his.  His  irregular  habits  must  often  have  been 
exceedingly  annoying.  But  this  was  a  remarkable 
case  of  hero-worship,  in  which  the  devotion  was  as 
enthusiastic  as  in  any  instance  of  the  few  heroes 
whom  the  universal  consent  of  mankind  has  placed 
upon  the  loftiest  pedestal.  I  was  always  enamoured 
of  Coleridge  as  a  poet,  and  had  become  convinced, 
when  I  wrote  my  notice  of  him  in  the  Half-Hours, 
that  there  was  "  no  man  of  our  own  times  who  has 
incidentally,  as  well  as  directly,  contributed  more  to 
produce  that  revolution  in  opinion,  which  has  led  us 
from  the  hard  and  barren  paths  of  a  miscalled 
utility,  to  expatiate  in  the  boundless  luxuriance  of 
those  regions  of  thought  which  belong  to  the 


THE   THIRD    EPOCH.  433 

• 

spiritual  part  of  our  nature,  and  have  something 
in  them  higher  than  a  money  value."  I  often 
thought  of  Coleridge  as  I  rambled  where  he  had 
mused  for  many  a  year — the  pleasant  meadows  and 
green  lanes  near  Caen  Wood.  I  used  sometimes  to 
think  that  if  it  had  been  my  fortune  to  have  dwelt 
at  Highgate  at  an  earlier  period,  I  might  have  ven 
tured  to  accost  him  as  the  boy  Keats  did,  to  crave 
the  honour  of  shaking  hands  (although  I  could  not 
say  "  I  too  am  a  poet  ")  with  one  who  had  so  largely 
filled  my  mind  with  images  of  beauty  and  lessons  of 
wisdom. 

I  have  incidently  mentioned  my  friend  Dr.  Arnott 
in  these  "Passages."  In  extracting  for  the  Half- 
Hours  the  account  of  the  Barometer  from  his  "Ele 
ments  of  Physics  "  I  said, "  When  we  consider  that  this 
excellent  book  can  only  be  completed  at  the  rare  in 
tervals  of  leisure  in  a  most  arduous  professional  life — 
that  at  the  moments  when  the  physician  is  not  remov 
ing  or  mitigating  the  sufferings  of  individuals,  he  is 
labouring  for  the  benefit  of  all  by  such  noble  inven 
tions  as  the  Hydrostatic  Bed — we  can  only  hope  that 
the  well-earned  repose  which  wise  men  look  to  in  the 
evening  of  their  day,  will  give  opportunity  for  per 
fecting  one  of  the  books  best  calculated  to  advance 
the  education  of  the  people  that  the  world  has  seen." 
Amidst  his  engagements  as  a  physician  and  his  devo 
tion  to  science,  Dr.  Arnott  had  still  leisure  for  social 
enjoyment,  as  every  studious  man  who  does  not  wish 
to  become  an  ascetic  must  seek  with  moderation. 
There  are  many  who  may  remember  with  the  same 
delight  as  myself  the  pleasant  Thursday  dinners  at 
his  house  in  Bedford  Square.  Here  was  no  osten- 


434  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE: 

• 

tatious  display,  but  the  warmest  welcome.  Here  wag 
no  oppression  of  great  talkers,  but  men  of  very  various 
pursuits  and  acquirements  contributed  each  in  his 
degree  to  the  amusement  of  a  small  listening  circle. 
Of  science  there  was  no  engrossing  parade.  Our 
genial  host  seemed  to  say,  in  the  words  of  Milton  to 
Cyriack  Skinner : 

"  To  day  deep  thoughts  resolve  with  me  to  drench 
In  mirth  that,  after,  no  repenting  draws  ; 
Let  Euclid  rest,  and  Archimedes  pause." 

In  the  wide  range  of  Dr.  Arnott's  acquaintance, 
curiously  assorted  guests  would  sometimes  be  found 
at  his  board.  Of  such  was  the  philosophic  Brahmin, 
Rammohun  Roy,  who  was  enabled  to  reconcile  the 
best  principles  of  his  native  faith  with  the  religion 
of  Christians,  and  Robert  Owen,  who  had  proclaimed 
the  negation  of  all  religious  belief  as  essential  to  the 
establishment  of  his  co-operative  system  of  universal 
love.  There  was  much  in  the  real  benevolence  of 
these  two  men,  so  different  in  education  and  habits, 
which  drew  them  together  with  something  like  a 
cordial  sympathy.  But  once,  when  we  were  in  the 
drawing-room,  a  quiet  talk  between  them  upon  the 
principle  of  co-operation  suddenly  broke  out  into  a 
loud  discussion  to  which  we  all  listened  with  sur 
passing  interest.  The  Rajah  held  his  ground  with  great 
ability,  and  with  no  common  knowledge  of  political 
economy,  against  Owen's  doctrine,  that  in  the  com 
petitive  principle  were  to  be  found  all  the  crimes 
and  miseries  of  society.  The  persevering  logician 
with  his  common  sense  was  too  strong  for  the  kind 
hearted  visionary.  Owen,  worn  out  with  objections, 
at  length  exclaimed,  "  Roger,  Roger,  you  are  not  a 


THE    THIRD   EPOCH.  435 

practical  man  ! "  The  reproach  from  such  lips,  and 
the  peculiar  pronunciation  of  the  Hindu  title,  were 
too  much  for  the  gravity  of  any  of  us.  Robert  Owen 
was  a  man  too  respectable  to  provoke  laughter  except 
on  such  a  rare  occasion  as  this — even  from  those  who 
would  smile  at  his  enthusiasm. 

Of  Wordsworth  in  the  Half-Hours  I  thus  wrote  : — 
"  The  greatest  name  in  the  literature  of  our  own  age 
is  William  Wordsworth.  He  has  at  last  influenced 
the  world  more  enduringly  than  any  of  his  contem 
poraries,  although  his  power  has  been  slowly  won." 
I  was  diligently  reading  Wordsworth  fifty  years  ago 
in  spite  of  the  sneers  of  Jeffrey.  I  can  read  him  now 
without  feeling,  as  younger  men  may  feel,  that  he  is 
tedious.  The  universality  of  Wordsworth  has  sent 
his  poetry  into  the  homes  of  the  poor  and  lowly,  and 
that  vital  quality  will  keep  him  fresh  and  green  for 
the  few,  and  possibly  for  the  many,  of  coming  ages. 
During  the  long  course  of  years  in  which  Wordsworth 
was  to  me  as  it  were  a  household  presence,  I  never 
saw  him  until  1849.  I  was  then  visiting  Miss 
Martineau  at  Ambleside.  Early  on  a  bright  morning, 
a  tall  man,  not  bowed  by  age  but  having  the  deep 
furrows  of  many  winters  on  his  massive  face,  entered 
the  house.  I  knew  at  once  that  it  was  the  great 
poet,  for  no  ordinary  Dalesman  with  his  stout  staff 
and  his  clouted  shoon  would  present  a  countenance 
so  remarkable  in  its  majestic  simplicity.  He  was 
then  in  his  seventy-ninth  year.  After  a  pleasant 
chat  with  my  hostess  and  myself,  he  asked  me  to 
walk  with  him  to  his  house  at  Rydal  Mount.  As  we 
passed  along  the  road  the  cottagers  and  the  children 
saluted  him  with  a  familiar  and  yet  respectful  greet 
ing.  He  was  their  old  friend,  who  had  lived  amongst 


436  PASSAGES  OF  A  WOKKING  LIFE: 

them  from  the  beginning  of  the  century  ;  who  had 
interested  himself  in  their  feelings  and  habits ;  and 
who,  in  this  constant  and  affectionate  intercourse, 
was  not  likely  to  be  moved  by  the  exhortations  of  an 
Edinburgh  Reviewer.  He  would  not  be  likely  to 
alter  his  way  of  life  at  the  bidding  of  Mr.  Jeffrey, 
and  "condescend  to  mingle  a  little  more  with  the 
people  who  were  to  read  and  judge  of  his  poems, 
instead  of  confining  himself  almost  entirely  to  the 
society  of  the  Dalesmen,  and  cottagers,  and  little 
children,  who  formed  their  subjects."  When  I  spent 
this  pleasant  morning  with  the  great  Lake  poet,  he 
had  a  little  condescended  to  move  out  of  his  seclu 
sion  from  the  gay  world  to  go  to  court  in  his  capacity 
of  Poet  Laureate.  He  laughed  a  little  at  the  idea 
of  his  state  costume,  and  I  really  thought  that  the 
home-spun  suit  of  Wonderful  Robert  Walker  would 
have  been  quite  as  becoming.  Yet  Wordsworth  was 
a  thorough  gentleman.  He  shewed  me  his  favourite 
books  and  the  antique  heir-looms  of  his  study,  with 
the  grace  of  an  unaffected  desire  to  bestow  pleasure 
on  a  chance  visitor  ;  he  pointed  out  the  most  exqui 
site  points  of  view  from  his  own  garden  ;  he  sat  with 
me  for  half  an  hour  on  the  somewhat  dilapidated 
seat  that  overlooks  the  Lower  Fall  at  Rydal.  He 
talked  with  a  deep  tenderness  of  Hartley  Coleridge, 
the  gifted  and  the  unfortunate,  who  had  died  in  the 
winter  before.  I  was  surprised  at  the  very  slight 
acquaintance  with  the  more  eminent  writers  of  the 
previous  ten  or  twenty  years  which  he  manifested. 
Of  the  novelists  he  appeared  to  know  nothing.  Of 
the  poets  he  might  be  excused  for  not  giving  an 
opinion.  He  has  been  reproached  with  wilfully  ignor 
ing  the  merits  of  his  contemporaries.  I  doubt 


THE   THIRD    EPOCH.  437 

whether  it  might  with  justice  be  attributed  either 
to  envy  or  to  affectation  when  he  told  me  that  he 
felt  no  interest  in  any  modern  book  except  in  Mr. 
Layard's  Nineveh,  which  had  then  been  recently 
published.  I  was  fortunate  in  the  opportunity  of 
seeing  this  great  man  in  that  mountain  home  where 
he  was  best  seen.  This  was  only  a  year  before  he 
was  laid  in  Grasmere  churchyard.  They  say  that 
the  lowly  mounds  beneath  which  rest  with  him  the 
remains  of  his  wife  and  his  sister — close  by  which 
honoured  graves  Hartley  Coleridge  was  buried — are 
trampled  down  by  rude  visitors — tourists  perhaps, 
but  without  the  reverence  that  belongs  to  those  who 
come  to  look  upon  such  scenes  of  beauty,  even  were 
there  no  higher  motive  for  reverence  in  all  the  asso 
ciations  of  this  holy  ground. 

In  1847  the  literary  reputation  of  Macaulay,  then 
famous  as  an  orator,  was  built  upon  his  "  Lays  of 
Ancient  Rome,"  and  his  "  Essays  "  from  the  Edin 
burgh  Review.  I  described  these  essays  as  having 
attained  a  success  far  higher  than  any  other  contri 
butions  to  the  periodical  works  of  our  day.  Their 
success,  indeed,  gave  an  impulse  to  this  somewhat 
novel  mode  of  investing  the  ephemeral  productions 
of  the  Reviewer  with  a  separate  dignity  befitting 
them  for  a  permanent  position  in  a  library.  The 
commercial  importance  of  this  system  was  sufficiently 
ascertained  when  Mr.  Macaulay  inserted  in  Lord 
Mahon's  Copyright  Bill  that  clause  which  rendered 
the  consent  of  the  author  necessary  to  the  re-publica 
tion,  in  a  separate  shape,  of  his  contributions  to  a 
Review  or  Magazine.  This  was  a  salutary  arrangement 
for  Letters  and  literary  men.  But  Macaulay  was  to 
attain  a  far  higher  reputation  than  that  of  the  brilliant 


438  PASSAGES   OF    A   WORKING   LIFE: 

essayist.  The  first  and  second  volumes  of  his  History  of 
England  were  published  in  1849.  The  third  and  fourth 
volumes  in  1855.  The  fifth  volume  was  a  posthu 
mous  fragment.  When  the  youthful  contributor  to 
the  Quarterly  Magazine  of  1824  had  taken  his  posi-  • 
tion  in  the  political  world,  our  once  friendly  inter 
course  was  necessarily  suspended.  He  took  no  part, 
and  probably  felt  no  interest,  in  the  Useful  Know 
ledge  Society,  although  many  of  his  intimate  friends 
were  active  members.  After  his  return  from  India, 
I  had  often  a  cordial  greeting  from  him  if  we  acci 
dentally  met,  but  I  never  had  the  opportunity  of 
listening,  during  his  maturer  years,  to  that  wonderful 
affluence  of  conversation  for  which  the  Scholar  of 
Trinity  was  as  remarkable  as  the  Cabinet  Minister. 
I  saw  him  laid  in  his  last  resting  place  in  Poet's 
Corner  on  a  raw  December  day  of  1859.  He  had 
lived  twenty  years  longer  than  his  youthful  friend 
and  colleague,  Praed.  There  was  time  for  Macaulay's 
fame  to  culminate,  but  it  must  always  be  a  matter  of 
regret  that  his  great  historical  work  has  not  given 
to  the  grand  epic  of  the  Revolution  a  certain  com 
pleteness,  by  bringing  up  the  splendid  narrative  to 
the  accession  of  the  House  of  Brunswick.  We 

cannot 

"  caU  up  him  that  left  half-told 
The  story." 

No  one  else  is  fitted  to  tell  it. 

Amongst  the  "Best  Authors"  are  some  of  whom  the 
traces  of  our  intimacy  are  indicated  with  more  or  less 
fullness  in  my  previous  volumes.  Leigh  Hunt,  John 
Wilson,  Thomas  De  Quincey,  Thomas  Hood,  are  of 
this  number.  I  may  glean  a  few  sentences  from  the 
Half-Hours  to  mark  my  opinion  of  their  literary 


THE   THIRD    EPOCH.  439 

excellence.  "  Mr.  Hunt,"  I  said,  "  who  has  borne 
much  adversity  with  a  cheerfulness  beyond  all  praise, 
writes  as  freshly  and  brilliantly  as  ever."  I  added 
"  Long  may  those  unfailing  spirits  which  are  the 
delight  of  his  social  and  family  circle,  be  the  sunshine 
of  his  old  age."  These  unfailing  spirits  made  the 
great  charm  of  his  conversation.  The  stream  flowed 
gently  on,  always  clear,  often  sparkling.  His  vivacity 
frequently  approached  to  wit,  and  if  there  were  the 
slightest  touch  of  satire  in  his  opinions  of  books  or 
men,  it  was  so  subtle  and  delicate  that  it  was  more 
like  the  fencing  with  foils  of  Congreve's  fine  gentle 
men,  than  the  sword  thrusts  of  one  who  in  his  time 
was  foremost  in  the  lists  of  bold  public  writers.  John 
Wilson's  prose  writings,  as  collected  in  "  The  Recrea 
tions  of  Christopher  North,"  are  mentioned  by  me 
with  a  warmth  of  admiration  that  to  many  must 
appear  somewhat  extravagant.  "It  would  be  diffi 
cult  to  point  to  three  volumes  of  our  own  times  that 
have  an  equal  chance  of  becoming  immortal."  I 
might  have  spoken  with  more  moderation  had  I  anti 
cipated  that  the  political  partisanship,  so  fierce  and 
so  unscrupulous,  of  the  "  Noctes  "  would  have  been 
reproduced  in  a  permanent  form,  to  make  us  think 
less  of  the  wit,  the  fancy,  the  genial  criticism,  and 
the  unaffected  pathos  of  their  principal  writer.  Of 
De  Quincey  I  expressed  a  deep  regret  that  the  un 
fortunate  habit  which  forms  the  subject  of  his 
"  Confessions  "  should  have  prevented  him  from  pro 
ducing  "  any  great  continuous  book,  worthy  of  his 
surpassing  powers."  But  whoever  carefully  reads  the 
fifteen  volumes  of  his  collected  works  will  scarcely 
join  in  this  regret.  In  his  case,  as  in  that  of  a  few  other 
persons,  his  death  was  necessary  to  place  him  in  the 


•440  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE: 

rank  of  a  great  classic.  Thomas  Hood  had  been 
dead  three  years  when  I  published  the  Half-Hours, 
and  there  said  of  him — "  He  was  brought  up  an 
engraver ;  he  became  a  writer  of  (  Whims  and 
Oddities/ — and  he  grew  into  a  poet  of  great  and 
original  power.  The  slight  partition  which  divides 
humour  and  pathos  was  remarkably  exemplified  in 
Hood.  Misfortune  and  feeble  health  made  him 
doubly  sensitive  to  the  ills  of  his  fellow-creatures/' 
On  several  occasions  we  had  corresponded  ;  I  had  met 
him  a  few  times  in  general  society,  but  I  had  never 
the  opportunity  of  cultivating  a  closer  acquaintance. 
I  have  heard  one  who  was  well  fitted  by  his  intimacy 
to  judge  of  Hood's  social  qualities,  speak  of  the 
beauty  of  his  domestic  life.  We  had  a  mutual  admi 
ration  of  his  humour  and  his  pathos,  and  above  all 
could  appreciate  that  exquisite  sensibility  which 
made  Hood  touch  the  sore  places  of  the  wretched 
with  such  a  tender  and  delicate  hand.  That  one  was 
Douglas  Jerrold. 

Although  my  close  intercourse  and  unbroken 
friendship  with  Jerrold  was  a  'source  of  happiness  to 
me  for  ten  years,  it  was  not  until  1845  that  I  even 
knew  his  person.  In  November  of  that  year  I  had  a 
special  invitation  to  a  great  Soire'e  of  the  Man 
chester  AthenaBum,  to  be  held  in  the  Free  Trade 
Hall.  I  was  the  guest  of  Mr.  James  Heywood,  who 
subsequently  represented  North  Lancashire.  As  I 
was  better  pleased  to  stay  in  the  pleasant  country 
house  of  my  host  than  go  much  into  the  smoky 
metropolis  of  cotton,  I  was  not  thrown  into  the 
society  of  the  contributors  to  "  Punch,"  who  were 
assembled  there,  and  might  read  their  names  in 
enormous  placards  advertised  as  the  great  stars  of 


THE   THIRD   EPOCH.  441 

the  coming  meeting.  "  Punch,"  out  of  a  not  very 
promising  commencement  in  1841,  had  in  four  years 
risen  into  an  unequalled  popularity.  Jerrold  was, 
however,  one  of  its  earliest  contributors,  a  paper  of 
his  appearing  in  the  second  number.  As  the  publi 
cation  went  on  we  may  every  now  and  then  trace 
some  of  those  flashes  of  merriment,  that  biting  satire, 
and  those  pleadings  for  the  wretched,  which  charac 
terized  his  avowed  writings.  "  The  Story  of  a 
Feather"  which  commenced  in  1843,  and  "  Mrs. 
Caudle's  Curtain  Lectures "  with  which  the  volume 
for  1845  opened,  raised  the  reputation  of  "  Punch  " 
to  a  height  which  showed  how,  in  a  periodical  work, 
the  happy  direction  and  the  peculiar  genius  of  one 
man  may  carry  it  far  beyond  the.  reach  of  ordinary 
competition.  I  described  in  "  Half  Hours "  the 
"  Caudle  Lectures  "  as  "  admirable  examples  of  the 
skill  with  which  character  can  be  preserved  in  every 
possible  variety  of  circumstances."  It  was  almost 
universally  known  who  was  the  author  of  this  re 
markable  series,  so  that  when  Douglas  Jerrold  rose 
in  the  Free  Trade  Hall  to  address  an  assembly  of 
three  thousand  people,  the  shouts  were  so  continuous 
that  the  coolest  plat  form- orator  might  have  lost  for 
a  moment  his  presence  of  mind.  I  looked  upon  a 
slight  figure  bending  again  and  again,  as  each  gust 
of  applause  seemed  to  overpower  him  and  make  him 
shrink  into  himself.  Mr.  Serjeant  Talfourd  was  in 
the  Chair,  and  had  delivered  an  eloquent  address 
which  the  local  reporters  called  "  massive,"  and 
which  by  some  might  have  been  deemed  "  heavy." 
The  audience  was  perhaps  somewhat  impatient  even 
of  the  florid  language  of  the  author  of  "  Ion,"  for 
they  wanted  to  hear  the  great  wit  who  sat  on  the 


442  PASSAGES   OP   A   WORKING   LIFE! 

edge  of  the  platform,  and  whose  brilliant  eye  appeared 
as  if  endeavouring  to  penetrate  the  obscure  distance 
of  that  vast  hall,  the  extremity  of  which  he  might 
possibly  have  calculated  his  somewhat  feeble  voice 
would  be  unable  to  reach.  When  the  moment  had 
at  last  arrived  in  which  he  was  called  upon  to  give 
utterance  to  his  thoughts,  he  hesitated,  rambled  into 
unconnected  sentences,  laboured  to  string  together 
some  platitudes  about  education,  and  was  really  dis 
appointing,  even  to  common  expectations,  until  the 
genius  of  the  man  attained  the  ascendancy.  Apos 
trophising  the  enemies  of  education,  he  exclaimed — 
"  Let  them  come  here  and  we  will  serve  them  as 
Luther  served  the  Devil — we  will  throw  inkstands 
at  their  heads."  The  effect  was  marvellous,  not  only 
upon  his  hearers  but  upon  the  speaker.  He  re 
covered  his  self-possession  and  succeeded  in  making 
a  very  tolerable  speech.  A  few  nights  afterwards,  I 
had  to  take  the  Chair  at  the  "  City  of  London  Lite 
rary  and  Scientific  Institution,"  in  Aldersgate  Street, 
and  I  said  there  what  I  have  never  ceased  to  feel.  I 
find  it  reported  that  I  said,  "  I  had  just  returned 
from  attending  the  splendid  soire'e  of  the  Athenaeum 
at  Manchester.  I  had  felt  that  it  was  a  rare,  and 
perhaps  unequalled,  spectacle — that  of  three  or  four 
thousand  ladies  and  gentlemen  comfortably  seated  in 
a  vast  hall  glittering  with  light,  to  listen  to  the 
addresses  of  popular  writers.  But,  at  the  same  time, 
I  could  not  avoid  feeling  that  there  was  something  in 
this  display  which  would  not  bear  the  test  of  sober 
examination.  I  ventured  to  think  that  it  was  a 
mistake  to  tempt  authors  out  of  their  proper  sphere 
to  come  forward  as  orators — to  ask  them  to  play 
upon  an  instrument  to  which  they  were  unaccus- 


THE   THIRD   EPOCH.  443 

tomed — and,  of  necessity,  to  feel  a  proportionate 
disappointment  when  some  one,  who  had  afforded 
unmixed  delight  in  his  own  vocation,  was  found,  as 
a  speaker,  not  to  drop  all  pearls  and  rubies  from  his 
mouth,  like  the  princess  in  the  fairy  tale."  If  it  be 
replied  to  this  argument  that  Mr.  Dickens  is  the 
most  effective  speaker  at  a  public  dinner  that  was 
ever  listened  to  with  general  admiration,  I  will 
answer,  that  at  the  opening  of  the  Manchester  Free 
Library  in  1852,  I  heard  one  of  the  greatest  masters 
of  the  English  language  utterly  break  down  in  ad 
dressing  a  large  audience,  and  take  his  seat  in  hope 
less  despair  of  being  able  to  complete  the  sentence 
which  he  had  begun.  That  speaker  was  the  autho 
of  "  Vanity  Fair." 

In  the  "  Half  Hours "  I  have  described  the  first 
great  novel  of  William  Makepeace  Thackeray  as  "  a 
masterly  production — the  work  of  an  acute  observer 
— sound  in  principle,  manly  in  its  contempt  of  the 
miserable  conventionalities  that  make  our  social  life 
such  a  cold  and  barren  thing  for  too  many.  Never 
was  the  absurd  desire  for  display,  which  is  the  bane 
of  so  much  real  happiness,  better  exposed  than  in 
the  writings  of  Mr.  Thackeray.  He  is  the  very 
antagonism  of  that  heartless  pretence  to  exclusiveness 
and  gentility  which  acquired  for  its  advocates  and 
expositors  the  name  of  'the  silver-fork  school.' 
Such  authors  as  this  produce  incalculable  benefit, 
and  will  do  much  to  bring  us  back  to  that  old  English 
simplicity— the  parent  of  real  taste  and  refinement — 
which  sees  nothing  truly  to  be  ashamed  of  but  profli 
gacy  and  meanness."  Of  the  private  character  and 
conversation  of  the  author  of  the  series  of  fictions — 
which  will  most  probably  hold  their  place  till  some 


444  PASSAGES   OF    A    WORKING    LIFE: 

great  revolution  of  opinion  sends  a  new  generation 
to  seek  for  delight  in  writers  of  a  different  school 
from  this  great  master — I  know  too  little  to  speak 
with  any  authority.  In  saying  here  what  I  did 
observe  in  Thackeray,  I  hope  not  to  be  considered  as 
going  out  of  my  way  to  add  my  voice  to  the  general 
accord  of  panegyric  which  has  naturally  followed  the 
sudden  deprivation  we  have  recently  endured.  My  con 
viction  was,  that  beneath  an  occasional  affectation  of 
cynicism,  there  was  a  tenderness  of  heart  which  he 
was  more  eager  to  repress  than  to  exhibit ;  that  he 
was  no  idolater  of  rank  in  the  sense  in  which  Moore 
was  said  dearly  to  love  a  lord,  but  had  his  best 
pleasures  in  the  society  of  those  of  his  own  social 
position — men  of  letters  and  artists  ;  and  that, 
however  fond  of  "  the  full  flow  of  London  talk,"  his 
own  home  was  the  centre  of  his  affections.  He  was 
a  sensitive  man,  as  I  have  seen  on  more  than  one 
occasion.  One,  I  cannot  forbear  mentioning.  We 
were  dining  at  the  table  of  Mr.  M.  D.  Hill,  on  the 
9th  of  April,  1848,  the  evening  before  the  expected 
outbreak  of  Chartism  in  London.  The  cloth  had 
scarcely  been  removed,  when  he  suddenly  started  up 
and  said,  "  Pray  excuse  me,  I  must  go.  I  left  my 
children  in  terror  that  something  dreadful  was  about 
to  happen.  I  am  unfit  for  society.  Good  night." 

Of  our  other  great  novelist,  I  wrote  in  "Half  Hours" 
— "Dickens,  as  well  as  every  writer  of  enduring 
fiction,  must  be  judged  by  his  power  of  producing  a 
;omplete  work  of  Art,  in  which  all  the  parts  have  a 
mutual  relation.  Tested  by  this  severe  principle, 
some  of  his  creations  may  be  held  imperfect, — written 
for  periodical  issue  and  not  published  entire, — hurried 
occasionally,  and  wanting  in  proportion.  But  from 


THE   THIRD   EPOCH.  445 

the  'Pickwick'  of  1837  to  the  'Dombey'  of  1848, 
there  has  been  no  failing  of  interest  and  effect ;  his 
characters  are  '  familiar  in  our  mouths  as  household 
words ;'  his  faults  are  for  the  critical  eye." 

Mr.  Forster  had  in  1840  attained  a  high  reputation 
as  the  author  of  "  Statesmen  of  the  Commonwealth." 
It  is  scarcely  necessary  here  to  point  out  with  what 
mastery  of  original  materials  he  has  improved  these 
biographies  into  works  of  permanent  historical  value. 
When  I  published  my  "  Half  Hours,"  he  had  just 
achieved  a  wide  popularity  as  the  author  of  "  Oliver 
Goldsmith,  a  Biography,"  Of  this  charming  book  I 
thus  wrote : — "Mr.  Forster  has  lighted  up  the  authentic 
narrative  of  a  literary  life  with  the  brilliant  hues  of 
taste  and  imagination ;  and,  what  is  a  higher  thing, 
he  has  told  the  story  of  the  errors,  the  sorrows,  the 
endurance,  and  the  success,  of  one  of  the  most 
delightful  of  our  '  best  authors,'  with  an  earnest 
vindication  of  simplicity  of  character,  and  a  deep 
sympathy  with  the  struggles  of  talent,  which  ought 
to  make  every  reader  of  this  life  more  just,  tolerant, 
and  loving  to  his  fellows."  As  was  the  case  with  Mr. 
Dickens,  Mr.  Forster  and  I  became  more  intimately 
associated  about  the  middle  of  the  century.  In  his 
chambers  in  Lincoln's  Inn  he  frequently  gathered 
around  him  a  small  circle  of  men  of  Letters.  Those 
who  sat  at  his  hospitable  board  were  seldom  too  few 
or  too  many  for  general  conversation. 

There  I  first  met  Tennyson,  and  there  Carlyle. 
Some  other  hand  will  perhaps  complete  my  imperfect 
selection  from  the  Best  Authors,  by  a  copious  addition 
of  names  of  recent  writers,  and  by  supplementing  my 
biographical  notices  of  those  there  given.  He  will 
have  to  trace  the  maturity  of  Tennyson's  powers  in 
"  The  Princess,"  in  the  "  In  Memoriam,"  in  "  Maud/' 


446  PASSAGES   OF   A    WORKING    LIFE  I 

in  "The  Idylls  of  the  King,"  and  in  "Enoch  Arden." 
What  an  influence  the  poems  of  Tennyson  have  had 
upon  the  tastes  of  the  present  age  can  scarcely  be 
appreciated,  except  by  a  contrast  with  the  fiery  stim 
ulus  of  the  feast  which  Byron  prepared  half  a 
century  ago.  There  must  be.  pauses  in  the  excite 
ment  of  these  days — in  which  ,"  onward,"  the  motto 
of  one  of  the  railway  companies,  may  apply  to  all  the 
movements  of  social  life — when  the  most  busy  and 
the  most  pleasure-seeking  may  relish  a  poet  who, 
with  a  perfect  mastery  of  harmonious  numbers,  fills 
the  mind  with  tranquil  images  and  natural  thoughts, 
drawn  out  of  his  intimate  acquaintance  with  the 
human  heart.  In  familiar  intercourse,  such  as  that 
of  Mr.  Forster's  table,  Mr.  Tennyson  was  cordial  and 
unaffected,  exhibiting,  as  in  his  writings,  the  simpli 
city  of  a  manly  character,  and  feeling  perfectly  safe 
from  his  chief  aversion,  the  "  digito  monstrari,"  was 
quite  at  his  ease.  Of  Mr.  Carlyle's  conversation  I 
cannot  call  up  a  more  accurate  idea  than  by  describ 
ing  his  talk  as  of  the  same  character  as  his  writings. 
Always  forcible,  often  quaint  and  peculiar ;  felicitous 
in  his  occasional  touches  of  fancy ;  not  unfrequently 
sarcastic.  When  I  edited  the  "  Half  Hours,"  his 
"French  Revolution"  was  his  chief  work,  and  I  could 
justly  say  of  that  book,  as  I  might  say  of  his  "  Crom 
well  "  and  his  "  Frederick  the  Great " — "  In  graphic 
power  of  description,  whether  of  scenes  or  of  charac 
ters,  he  has  not  a  living  equal." 


CHAPTEE  XXIII. 


HE  LAND  WE  LIVE  IN,  a  monthly  illus 
trated  publication,  was  commenced  by  me 
in  1847.  It  had,  to  a  certain  extent,  the 
same  object  as  "  Old  England,"  of  describing 
monuments  of  the  past,  but  those  notices  were  always 
in  connection  with  the  aspects  of  our  latest  civili 
zation. 

Previous  to  the  commencement  of  the  publication 
of  "  The  Land  we  Live  in,"  I  had  availed  myself  of 
every  opportunity  to  visit  our  great  seats  of  industry, 
chiefly  with  a  view  to  observe  the  progress  of  Edu 
cation  and  to  inquire  into  the  general  condition  of 
the  people.  For  several  years  I  had  contemplated  a 
literary  undertaking,  the  materials  for  which  could 
not  be  wholly  obtained  from  books.  I  aspired  to 
write  "The  History  of  England  during  the  Thirty 
Years'  Peace,  1815—1845."  The  publication  of  this 
work  was  commenced  in  1846,  and  a  portion  of  it, 
embracing  the  annals  of  1816-17,  was  written  by  me. 
The  illness  of  my  partner,  and  his  consequent  with 
drawal  from  our  business,  in  which  he  attended  to  the 
financial  part,  rendered  it  necessary  for  me  to  devote 
myself  almost  entirely  to  my  commercial  responsi 
bilities.  The  "History  of  the  Peace"  was  suspended 
for  some  months  ;  and  I  then  was  fortunate  in  finding 
one  of  the  few  persons  adequately  qualified,  not  only 


448  PASSAGES    OF    A    WOKKING    LIFE  I 

by  the  power  of  writing  agreeably,  but  by  unwearied 
industry  and  a  long  course  of  observation  upon  the 
social  affairs  of  the  country,  to  produce  a  book  of 
permanent  value.  The  composition  of  this  History 
of  Thirty  Years  was  resumed  by  Miss  Martineau, 
and  was  completed  by  her  with  a  success  that  I 
might  have  been  unable  to  attain. 

In  the  Session  of  1854,  a  Committee  of  the  House 
of  Commons  was  sitting  to  examine  witnesses  upon 
that  question  of  the  abolition  of  the  Newspaper  Stamp, 
which  had  occupied  the  attention  of  the  Legislature 
twenty  years  before.  After  the  Meeting  of  Parliament 
in  1855,  a  very  general  opinion  prevailed  that  the  then 
Penny-stamp  would  be  entirely  abolished,  except  for 
the  purpose  of  transmitting  a  newspaper  by  post. 
The  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer,  Sir  George  Corne- 
wall  Lewis,  through  his  private  Secretary,  Sir  Alex 
ander  Duff  Gordon,  requested  me  to  inform  him  what 
was  the  greatest  circulation  of  each  number  of  the 
Penny  Magazine  at  any  time.  In  giving  this  in 
formation  I  referred  him  to  a  little  book  which  Mr. 
Murray  had  just  published  for  me — "  The  Old 
Printer  and  the  Modern  Press," — in  which  I  had 
taken  a  rapid  view  of  the  circulation  and  character 
of  penny  periodicals  at  the  beginning  of  1854.  I 
had  stated  that  of  four  of  these  a  million  sheets  were 
then  sold  weekly.  In  my  letter,  I  thought  it  right 
to  convey  fully  my  opinion  upon  the  question  of  the 
abolition  of  the  Stamp,  and  in  support  of  that  opinion 
I  mentioned  that  Dr.  Arnold  was  strongly  impressed 
with  the  notion  that  a  Newspaper  was  the  best 
vehicle  for  communicating  knowledge  to  the  people  ; 
the  events  of  the  day,  he  maintained,  were  .a  definite 


THE   THIRD   EPOCH.  449 

subject  to  which  instruction  could  be  attached  in  the 
best  possible  manner.  An  extract  from  the  letter 
thus  written  by  me  may  fitly  introduce  the  general 
subject  of  the  extension  of  the  Newspaper  Press 
during  the  last  eight  or  nine  years,  upon  which  I 
propose  to  treat  in  this  chapter.  "  The  change  in 
the  character  of  the  Penny  Periodicals  during  the 
last  five  or  six  years,  from  the  lowest  ribaldry  and 
positive  indecency  to  a  certain  propriety — and  of 
which  frivolity  is  the  chief  blemish — is  an  assurance 
to  me  that  the  cheapening  of  Newspapers  by  the 
removal  of  the  Stamp  will  not  let  in  that  flood  of 
sedition  and  blasphemy  which  some  appear  to  dread. 
The  character  of  the  mass  of  readers  is  improved. 
In  my  little  book  I  have  opposed  the  removal  of  the 
Stamp,  chiefly  on  the  ground  that  a  quantity  of  local 
papers  would  start  up,  that  would  be  devoted  to 
mere  parish  politics,  and  sectarian  squabbles,  instead 
of  being  national  in  their  objects  ;  and  that  would 
huddle  together  the  worst  of  criminal  trials  and 
police  cages,  without  attempting  to  suggest  any 
sound  principles  of  politics,  or  furnish  any  useful 
information.  To  provide  a  corrective  to  this,  I  have 
devised  the  plan  detailed  in  the  circular,  which  I  left 
with  you.  I  sent  out  an  intelligent  traveller  into  the 
Midland  districts  last  week,  confidentially  to  explain 
this  plan  to  active  printers  in  towns  that  had  no 
local  paper ;  and  his  report  shows  that  the  principle 
will  be  eagerly  adopted." 

The  plan  which  I  had  devised  was  founded  upon 
my  old  newspaper  experience,  during  which,  for 
several  years,  three-fourths  of  the  local  Paper  of 
Berkshire  and  Buckinghamshire  were  printed  at  the 


450  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE: 

"  Express "  Office  at  Windsor,  and  one-fourth  at  a 
branch  office  at  Aylesbury.  In  connection  with  a 
highly  respectable  printing  firm,  I  commenced  the 
publication  of  the  "  Town  and  Country  Newspaper  " 
immediately  upon  the  repeal  of  the  Stamp-duty  in 
1855.  There  were  many  elements  of  success  in  this 
plan,  but  it  was  defeated  by  the  complex  and  expen 
sive  organization  necessary  to  supply  small  adven 
turers  into  the  new  world  of  journalism  with  the 
very  few  impressions  each  required  at  first  to  meet 
his  local  demand.  Nor  was  my  belief  that  this  sort 
of  publication  might  be  made  the  vehicle  for  com 
bining,  not  only  a  well  digested  body  of  news,  but 
sound  practical  information  upon  many  subjects  of 
public  interest,  destined  to  be  realized.  The  readers 
in  very  small  towns,  in  which  the  one  printer  was 
generally  the  first  to  make  the  experiment  which  I 
proposed,  did  not  very  anxiously  desire  to  see  the 
newspaper  made  an  instrument  of  education,  or  for  the 
advancement  of  objects  of  public  improvement.  The 
undertaking  was  not  remunerative,  and  J  had  no 
desire  to  press  upon  my  partners  the  continuance  of 
a  scheme  that  did  not  pay  as  quickly  as  was  expected. 
The  plan  became  very  extensively  adopted  after  the 
establishment  of  penny  local  Journals  had  created  a 
demand,  and  they  were  found  to  supply  t  a  public 
want.  Four  hundred  such  provincial  Papers  are  said 
to  be  now  partly  printed  in  London ;  but  I  am  in 
formed  by  a  friend,  who  is  perfectly  well-acquainted 
with  the  curious  facts  connected  with  the  present 
state  of  local  and  other  Newspapers,  that  the  plan  of 
printing  one  side  of  a  weekly  sheet  in  London  is  now 
going  out  of  use.  There  is  another  mode  adopted,  of 
making  the  same  information,  and  the  same  labour  of 


THE   THIRD   EPOCH.  451 

setting  up  the  types,  available  for  many  papers,  which 
is  a  striking  example  of  the  effect  of  new  combina 
tions  of  industrial  art  and  science,  for  the  diminution 
of  expense  of  production.  There  is  an  enterprising 
proprietor  of  a  local  newspaper  in  one  of  our  large 
manufacturing  towns,  who  has  a  stereotyping  office 
in  London,  and  supplies  small  journals  throughout 
the  country  with  stereotyped  matter  at  a  low  rate  per 
column,  of  which  he  will  send  any  number  of  columns 
up  to  twentv.-four.  The  plan  is  so  simple  and  so 
convenient  that  his  customers  are  very  numerous, 
and  he  is  considered  to  be  making  a  much  better 
profit  out  of  his  stereotype  plates,  than  by  his  well- 
circulated  Journal.  This  system  is  one  of  the  many 
instances,  with  which  we  are  becoming  more  and 
more  familiar,  of  co-operation  for  Production.  Per 
haps  a  more  striking  example  is  furnished  in  the 
economical  management  of  some  daily  papers  in 
England  and  Scotland,  published  out  of  London,  of 
which  number  there  are  now  nearly  forty.  Several 
of  the  proprietors  of  these  large  local  journals  have 
associated  for  the  establishment  of  an  office  in  London, 
with  a  literary  staff,  compositors,  and  stereotype- 
founders.  There  are  five  or  more  papers  which  par 
ticipate  in  this  arrangement.  Each  paper  belonging 
to  this  league  uses  the  stereotypes  according  to  its 
especial  wants  and  convenience,  sometimes  all  that  is 
dispatched  ;  more  frequently  a  selection  is  made.  I 
have  before  me  a  Provincial  Daily  Paper,  of  October 
20th,  1864, — a  large  well  printed  sheet,  price  Id. 
My  friend  has  marked  for  my  information  the  matter 
which  has  been  thus  transmitted  to  this  journal,  as 
to  others,  by  express  trains,  generally  leaving  London 
at  5  p.m.,  and  reaching  places  two  hundred  miles 


452  PASSAGES   OF    A   WOKKING   LIFE  I 

distant  by  11  p.m.  The  matter  which  I  thus  find  in 
this  paper  comprises  eight  folio  columns,  and  neces 
sarily  contains  the  very  latest  news  and  comment. 
What  a  power  do  the  Managers  of  this  journalistic 
Confederacy  possess  for  the  direction  of  public  opinion, 
and  how  real  a  matter  of  congratulation  it  is  that  the 
time  is  past  when  the  influence  of  the  Newspaper 
Press  was  too  frequently  inimical  to  quiet  and  good 
government !  Dr.  Arnold  wrote  to  the  Archbishop 
of  Dublin  in  1833,  "  I  think  that  a  newspaper  alone 
can  help  to  cure  the  evil  which  newspapers  have 
done  and  are  doing." 

In  considering  the  feasibility  of  carrying  forward 
upon  a  large  scale,  the  plan  of  printing  the  general 
portion  of  a  newspaper  in  London,  to  be  completed 
by  the  publisher  in  a  country  town,  I  was  careful  to 
inform  myself  of  the  exact  number  of  Local  Journals 
in  every  county.  The  materials  were  to  be  collected 
from  a  very  useful  publication,  "  The  Newspaper 
Press  Directory,"  by  C.  Mitchell,  which  had  then 
been  established  nine  or  ten  years.  It  is  continued 
annually  at  the  present  time  ;  and  a  comparison 
merely  of  the  quantity  of  printed  matter  in  the 
volume  for  1855,  and  that  for  1864,  will  at  once 
point  to  the  vast  increase  in  Journalism.  I  find 
amongst  my  papers  a  voluminous  abstract  of  the 
state  of  the  Local  Newspaper  Press,  which  I  drew 
out  six  months  before  the  abolition  of  the  Stamp. 
In  the  forty  English  counties  there  were  120  cities 
and  towns,  omitting  London,  in  which  Newspapers 
were  then  published.  But  in  these  there  were  261 
papers,  the  more  important  places  having,  in  many 
instances,  more  than  one  such  organ  of  intelligence. 
To  my  abstract  I  appended  the  number  of  inhabi- 


THE   THIRD   EPOCH.  453 

tants  of  each  town.  The  result  of  my  examination 
was,  that  there  were  350  populous  towns  without  any 
Local  Paper,  viz. — 

99  Towns  with  population  above  2000 — under  3000. 

106      „  „  „      3000-     „      5000. 

63      „  „  „      5000—    „      7000. 

82      ,,  ,,  ,,      7000  and  upwards. 

These  were  statistical  facts  of  deep  significance. 

The  amount  of  the  change  which  has  been  pro 
duced  in  eight  years  by  the  abolition  of  the  News 
paper  Stamp  and  the  Advertisement  Duty — in  some 
degree  also  by  the  repeal  of  the  tax  upon  paper — is 
sufficiently  indicated  by  the  following  figures : — 
There  were  published  in  England,  at  the  commence 
ment  of  the  present  year,  919  journals.  Of  these 
240  belonged  to  London ;  and  these  included  13 
daily  morning  papers,  7  evening,  and  220  published 
during  the  week  and  at  intervals.  But  these  London 
Journals,  not  daily,  comprise  the  purely  literary  and 
scientific  papers — the  legal  and  medical,  and  more 
numerous  than  all,  the  religious  journals.  Further, 
since  I  made  my  abstract  of  Local  Papers,  there  have 
started  into  flourishing  existence  no  less  than  32 
district  journals  of  .the  Metropolis  and  its  suburbs. 
Taking  these  240  metropolitan  and  suburban  papers 
from  the  total  919  published  in  England,  I  find  that 
there  are  now  679  Country  Newspapers,  instead  of 
the  261  which  I  found  existing  in  1855.  I  may 
'infer,  therefore,  without  going  into  a  minute  exami 
nation  of  the  matter,  that  the  350  populous  places 
which,  at  that  time,  had  no  newspaper  of  their  own, 
are  now  not  left  without  a  vehicle  for  the  publication 
of  their  local  affairs,  whether  important  or  frivolous, 
whether  affecting  a  nation  or  a  parish.  To  finish  this 


454  PASSAGES   OF   A   WOKKING   LIFE  I 

summary,  I  may  add  that  Wales  has  37  journals  ; 
Scotland  140 ;  Ireland  140  ;  the  British  Isles  14  ; 
making  up  for  the  United  Kingdom  a  total  of  1250. 
Of  the  aggregate  circulation  of  these  Journals,  it  is 
impossible  to  arrive  at  any  accurate  estimate.  At 
the  beginning  of  the  century,  the  annual  circulation 
of  newspapers  in  England  and  Wales  was  15  millions. 
In  1853,  as  was  shown  by  the  Stamp-Office  returns, 
the  annual  circulation  of  England  and  Wales  was 
72  millions,  and  of  Scotland  and  Ireland,  each 
8  millions.  Even  the  circulation  in  1853  was  an 
astounding  fact,  and  I  then  wrote,  "  Visit,  if  you  can, 
the  interior  of  that  marvellous  human  machine  the 
General  Post  Office,  on  a  Friday  evening  from  half- 
past  five  to  six  o'clock.  Look  with  awe  upon  the 
tons  of  newspapers  that  are  crowding  in  to  be  dis 
tributed  through  the  habitable  globe.  Think  silently 
how  potent  a  power  is  this  for  good  or  for  evil.  You 
turn  to  one  of  the  boxes  of  the  letter-sorters,  and 
your  guide  will  tell  you,  'this  work  occupies  not 
half  the  time  it  formerly  did,  for  everybody  writes 
better.' "  Some  of  the  elder  country  newspapers  and 
some  that  have  started  into  life  since  the  repeal  of 
the  Stamp,  have  a  circulation  that  is  to  be  numbered 
by  thousands.  But  if  we  only  assign  a  sale  of  1000 
each  to  the  679  country  papers  in  England,  we  have 
a  total  annual  circulation  of  235  millions.  The  Scotch 
and  Irish  Journals  will  probably  swell  the  aggregate 
annual  circulation  of  the  United  Kingdom  to  250 
millions.  Taking  the  entire  population  at  30  millions, 
this  estimate  would  give  eight  newspapers  in  the 
course  of  the  year  to  every  person :  and  assuming 
that  every  newspaper  has  six  readers,  there  is  no 
present  want  in  these  Kingdoms  of  the  literary 


THE   THIRD   EPOCH.  455 

means  of  keeping  the  entire  mass  of  the  people 
informed  upon  every  current  event  and  topic.  But 
there  may  be  other  wants  to  be  met  besides  those 
which  are  supplied  by  the  vast  increase  of  journalism 
before  the  newspaper  can  be  within  the  reach  of  the 
whole  of  the  adult  population.  There  are  thousands 
growing  into  men  and  women  who,  during  the  last 
decade,  when  newspapers  have  been  rising  up  for  an 
almost  universal  use,  have  acquired  the  ability  to 
read.  The  numbers  of  those  wholly  uninstructed 
must  be  very  few  in  populous  districts  compared 
with  the  days  when  the  newspaper  was  the  most 
highly  taxed  article  of  necessity  or  luxury.  Now 
that  it  has  become  one  of  the  cheapest  of  inventions 
for  the  supply  of  a  general  want,  it  may  be  well  to 
inquire  into  the  causes  which  interfere  with  an 
universal  supply. 

An  ingenious  and  instructive  "  Newspaper  Map  of 
the  United  Kingdom,"  accompanies  Mitchell's  News 
paper  Press  Directory.  It  is  suggestive  of  several 
important  facts  in  our  social  condition,  which  we  are 
apt  to  pass  over  in  looking  at  its  multifarious  details. 
The  several  districts  of  the  kingdom  are  indicated 
by  different  colours,  not  only  as  manufacturing, 
mining,  and  agricultural,  but  by  other  colours,  where 
two  or  more  of  these  large  classes  of  occupation  are 
combined.  When  we  glance  at  the  Agricultural 
Counties,  twenty-three  in  number,  extending  from 
Somersetshire  to  Lincolnshire,  and  bounded  by  the 
inland  Manufacturing  and  Agricultural  Counties,  five 
in  number,  we  feel  something  like  wonder  that 
amongst  these  agricultural  communities  there  should 
appear  so  great  a  number  of  towns  having  one  or 
more  newspapers.  It  is  no  matter  of  surprise  that 
20 


456  PASSAGES    OF    A   WORKING    LIFE  :    [Ch.  VIII. 

the  Manufacturing  and  Mining  Counties,  with  their 
enormous  populations,  should  be  dotted  with  a  circular 
mark,  indicating  the  publication  of  one  paper, 
or  with  a  square  mark,  indicating  more  than  one. 
Nor  are  we  surprised  that  where  there  is  a  mixed 
population,  in  which  farms,  and  factories,  and  under 
ground  operations,  supply  the  funds  for  the  main 
tenance  of  labour,  the  newspapers  should  be  as 
numerous  as  in  the  seats  of  the  Woollen  and  Cotton 
Manufacture,  and  in  the  great  ports  associated  with 
them.  A  minuter  investigation  into  this  map  will 
show  how  the  purely  Agricultural  Districts  so  abound 
with  Local  Newspapers.  The  places  in  which  they 
are  published  are,  with  scarcely  an  exception,  situated 
on  the  lines  of  railway.  The  Railway  and  the  Local 
Newspaper  seem  to  have  sprung  up  together  into  an 
extension  which,  even  ten  years  ago,  it  would  have 
required  some  effort  of  the  imagination  to  consider 
possible.  How  is  it,  then,  that  the  agricultural 
labouring  population  must  be  held  as  very  imper 
fectly  supplied  with  the  same  means  of  information 
as  the  residents  in  towns  ?  Look  at  this  Newspaper 
Map,  and  observe  what  large  blank  spaces  lie  between 
every  thread  of  the  great  network  of  railways.  In 
the  North  Riding  of  Yorkshire,  which  is  almost 
purely  agricultural,  these  blanks  are  as  remarkable 
as  those  of  Wales  when  we  get  away  from  the  Mining 
Districts,  or  Scotland,  when  we  have  passed  from  the 
seats  of  manufactures  and  commerce  into  the  moun 
tainous  districts.  In  the  blank  spaces  thus  indicated, 
where  dwell  the  great  food-producing  population,  in 
small  villages  and  hamlets,  the  newspaper  never 
comes  except  by  the  post.  The  extension,  of  late  years, 
of  the  operations  of  the  Post-office,  has  rendered  the 


THE   THIRD   EPOCH.  457 

number  of  those  partially  excluded  from  communi 
cation  with  the  outer  world,  much  less  than  it  was 
long  after  the  introduction  of  Penny  Postage.  But, 
with  the  extension  of  the  Post,  the  delivery  of  news 
papers  by  special  messengers  from  the  towns  has 
almost  ceased.  Bearing  in  mind  the  cost  of  communi 
cation,  whether  by  direct  delivery  or  by  a  postage 
stamp,  we  need  not  be  surprised  that  the  newspaper, 
London  or  provincial,  is  not  often  to  be  found  in  the 
labourer's  cottage. 


CHAPTEE  XXIV. 


HE  narrative  of  my  publishing  enterprises 
was,  in  Chapter  XXIIL,  brought  up  to 
1855;  with  the  exception  of  the  two  most 
important  works  of  my  later  years,  the 
"  English  Cyclopaedia  "  and  the  "  Popular  History  of 
England."  In  these  undertakings  I  had  a  pro 
prietary  interest,  although,  as  I  stated  in  the 
Preface  to  the  present  book,  "  I  had  to  become 
more  a  writer  and  an  editor  than  a  publisher." 
I  have  reserved  a  brief  account  of  these  works  until 
I  should  arrive,  in  the  natural  sequence  of  these 
'  Passages,'  at  the  periods  of  their  completion. 
The  eight  years  that  were  occupied  by  the  super 
intendence  of  the  Cyclopaedia  —  during  seven  of 
which  I  was  also  occupied  in  writing  the  History — 
bring  me  to  the  termination  of  the  Half  Century 
of  my  Working  Life. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  novels  of  Sir  Edward 
Bulwer  Lytton  is  entitled  "  What  will  he  do  with 
it  ? "  When,  in  1848,  after  the  completion  of  the 
"  Penny  Cyclopaedia,"  I  had  parted  with  the  stock 
and  stereotype  plates,  the  copyright  remained  in  my 
hands.  It  had  cost  a  large  sum  of  money;  of  its 
literary  value  no  one  doubted ;  but  its  commercial 
value  remained  to  be  tested.  "  What  will  he  do  with 
it  ? "  said  the  Trade:  I  turned  it  to  account  in  an 


THE   THIRD   EPOCH.  459 

abridgment  entitled  the  "  National  Cyclopaedia."  In 
this  the  original  work  was  melted  down  to  one- 
fourth  of  its  dimensions.  It  was  a  useful  book,  but 
it  was  far  from  satisfying  the  requirements  of  those 
who  sought  in  a  Cyclopaedia  to  supply  the  place  of  a 
small  library.  From  this  "  National  Cyclopaedia  "  of 
too  scanty  dimensions,  I  turned  my  attention  towards 
producing  one  of  larger  proportions  even  than  the 
original  work.  The  "  Imperial  Cyclopaedia/'  of  which 
a  Prospectus  was  largely  circulated,  was  proposed  to  be 
divided  into  eight  or  ten  great  compartments,  each  of 
which  was  to  be  prefaced  by  a  treatise  by  some  emi 
nent  writer.  It  would  have  been  a  large  undertaking, 
but  I  had  assurances  of  support  from  persons  of 
influence,  encouraging  enough,  but  not  sufficiently 
numerous  to  lead  me  onward  to  a  great  risk.  Some 
of  the  letters  of  these  supporters  are  before  me. 
One  of  them  is  so  characteristic  of  a  nobleman  who 
had  an  hereditary  love  of  science,  and  a  natural 
devotion  to  literature,  that  I  may  be  pardoned  the 
egotism  of  its  insertion.  Lord  Ellesmere  writes  to 
me  on  the  19th  of  June,  1850  : — "  I  shall  direct  my 
bookseller  to  furnish  the  volumes  as  they  come  out, 
as  I  look  upon  your  professional  labours  as  among 
the  best  exertions  of  the  day  for  fighting  the  devil 
and  all  his  works."  Lord  Ellesmere's  cordial  letter 
to  me  was  his  answer  to  my  proposal  to  publish  by 
subscription.  This  plan,  by  which  authors  and  pub 
lishers  took  hostages  against  evil  fortune,  was  in 
general  use  during  the  first  half  of  the  eighteenth 
century.  Like  most  other  human  things  it  was 
subject  to  abuse;  but  it  was  founded  upon  a  true 
estimate  of  the  peculiar  risks  of  publishing.  It  is 
manifest  that,  if  a  certain  number  of  persons  unite 


460  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING    LIFE: 

in  agreement  to  purchase  a  book  which  is  about  to 
be  printed,  the  author  may  be  at  ease  with  regard  to 
the  issue  of  the  enterprise  ;  and  the  subscribers 
ought  to  receive  what  they  want,  at  a  lower  cost  than 
when  risk  enters  into  price.  For  more  than  half  a 
century  nearly  all  the  great  books  were  published  by 
subscription;  and  the  highest  in  literature  felt  no 
degradation  in  themselves  canvassing  with  their 
subscription  receipts.  The  plan  which,  upon  the 
face  of  it,  was  a  just  one  for  all  parties — a  fair  ex 
change  between  seller  and  buyer — came  in  process 
of  time  to  be  regarded  with  suspicion.  The  practice 
of  soliciting  subscriptions  which,  in  Pope,  and  Steele, 
and  Johnson,  and  fifty  other  eminent  authors,  was 
legitimate  and  honourable,  was  in  the  next  century 
either  treated  with  cold  neglect,  or  regarded  with  the 
same  suspicion  as  the  devices  of  the  begging-letter 
writer.  I  quickly  found  out  my  mistake,  and  united 
myself  with  a  publishing  house  who  had  the  means 
of  largely  circulating  a  serial  work  throughout  the 
kingdom. 

I  have  already  devoted  two  Chapters  to  the  history 
of  the  "  Penny  Cyclopaedia."  I  have  there  described 
the  labours  of  the  various  Contributors,  and  have 
recorded  some  characteristic  traits  of  the  eminent 
persons  who  were  associated  in  this  work.  It  was 
completed  in  1844.  In  the  nine  years  that  elapsed 
between  that  period  and  the  commencement  of  the 
"English  Cyclopaedia,"  knowledge  of  all  kinds  had 
been  accumulating  at  a  rate  of  marvellous  rapidity. 

The  geographical  descriptions,  for  example,  of 
the  "  Penny  Cyclopaedia,"  had  stopped  short  of  the 
wonderful  development  of  the  Australian  colonies. 
The  new  Cyclopaedia  was  arranged  in  four  divisions, 


THE   THIRD    EPOCH.  461 

Geography,  Natural  History,  Biography,  Arts  and 
Sciences.  The  two  first  of  these  Divisions  were  pro 
ceeding  at  the  same  time,  and  were  each  completed 
in  two  years  and  a  half.  What  a  store  of  new 
materials  had  been  gathering  together,  for  the  use  of 
the  Geographer  and  the  Naturalist,  that  required  to 
be  set  forth  in  the  remodelled  Cyclopaedia !  These 
two  Divisions  were  succeeded  by  that  of  Biography. 
If  no  other  additions  had  been  required  than  the 
introduction  of  names  of  living  persons,  the  new  lite 
rary  labour  would  have  been  of  no  small  amount — 
sufficient  indeed  to  form  a  separate  book,  not  so 
large  but  essentially  as  complete  as  the  '  Biographic 
des  Contemporains.'  This  Biographical  Division,  in 
six  volumes,  was  completed  in  1858.  The  Division 
of  Arts  and  Sciences  included  a  great  amount  of 
miscellaneous  subjects,  not  capable  of  being  intro 
duced  into  the  more  precise  arrangement  of  the  three 
previous  departments.  It  was  completed  in  eight 
volumes  in  1861.  In  my  Introduction  to  the  eighth 
volume,  I  said — "  it  has  been  produced  the  last  in  the 
series,  that  nothing  of  new  invention  and  discovery  in 
Science — nothing  of  progressive  improvement  in  the 
Arts — might  be  omitted." 

In  the  conduct  of  this  work  I  adopted  two  prin 
ciples  ;  first  that  not  an  article,  not  a  page,  not  a 
line,  should  be  reprinted  without  revision ;  secondly, 
that  every  new  Contributor  should  be  so  reliable  in 
his  talents  and  his  acquirements,  that  his  articles 
might  be  safely  adopted  without  undergoing  that 
superintendence  which  the  Useful  Knowledge  Society 
professed  to  undertake  for  the  "  Penny  Cyclopaedia," 
and  which  was  often  very  judiciously  exerted. 
Noticing  the  Contributors  to  the  earlier  work,  when  I 


462  PASSAGES   OF    A   WORKING   LIFE  I 

was  writing  these  "  Passages"  in  1863, 1  was  looking 
back  twenty  years.  There  was  a  sort  of  historical 
interest  attached  to  many  of  these  names,  and  I 
could  speak  of  them  unreservedly  and  without  any 
invidious  distinction.  It  is  not  so  with  the  Contri 
butors  to  a  work  which  was  only  completed  three 
years  before  the  time  when  I  am  now  writing.  My 
own  duties  in  the  conduct  of  the  work  involved  little 
more  than  a  general  superintendence.  In  the  Pre 
face  to  the  Natural  History  Division  I  acknowledged 
my  obligations  to  Dr.  Edwin  Lankester,  who  had 
brought  the  original  articles  into  a  more  systematic 
shape ;  who  had  removed  much  that  was  obsolete  ; 
and  who,  having  access  to  the  opinions,  and  securing 
the  assistance,  of  the  best  living  authorities,  had 
neglected  no  new  materials  that  were  at  that  time 
available.  I  had  further,  at  the  close  of  the  work,  to 
thank  my  fellow-labourers  during  many  years — Mr. 
A.  Ramsay  and  Mr.  J.  Thorne — for  the  active  and 
intelligent  share  they  had  taken  in  its  management, 
by  which  the  regularity  of  publication,  and  the 
correctness  of  the  text,  had  been  mainly  secured. 

I  might  probably  have  been  induced  to  say  more 
of  the  plan  and  conduct  of  this  book — which,  without 
arrogance,  I  may  call  a  great  book, — had  I  not  been 
able  to  refer  for  further  details  to  one  of  the  most 
learned  and  interesting  articles  that  ever  appeared  in 
a  critical  work — "  The  History  of  Cyclopaedias,"  in  the 
"  Quarterly  Review  "  for  April,  1863.  Of  the  com 
mendation  of  this  writer  I  have  just  cause  to  be 
proud,  for  it  is  founded  upon  an  acquaintance,  little 
less  than  extraordinary,  with  the  Cyclopaedias  of  all 
countries  and  languages,  of  far-removed  or  of  recent 
times.  I  am  satisfied  that  he  speaks  from  an  honest 


THE   TRIED   EPOCH.  463 

conviction  alone,  when  he  says — "  the  '  English 
Cyclopaedia '  is  a  work  that  as  a  whole  has  no  superior 
and  very  few  equals  of  its  kind ;  that,  taken  by 
itself,  supplies  the  place  of  a  small  library;  and, 
used  in  a  large  library,  is  found  to  present  many 
points  of  information  that  are  sought  in  vain  in  any 
other  cyclopaedia  in  the  English  language."  The 
"  Quarterly  Review  "  is  chiefly  addressed  to  those  who 
have  leisure  and  abundant  means ;  but  there  is  an 
other  class  to  whom  the  "English  Cyclopaedia"  is 
strongly  recommended  as  a  book  for  those  who  labour 
with  their  hands,  and  have  little  time  for  systematic 
study.  In  the  "  Working  Men's  College  Magazine  " 
for  November,  1861,  there  is  an  article  signed  V. 
Lushington,  for  which  I  have  abstained  from  offering 
my  thanks,  for  I  feel  that  to  express  personal  grati 
tude  to  a  critic  is  to  imply  that  other  considerations 
than  those  of  truth  and  justice  may  have  suggested 
his  praise.  I  cannot  probably,  however,  better  con 
clude  my  notice  of  a  work  which  has  brought  me 
abundant  honour,  than  by  giving  an  eloquent  passage 
from  this  notice.  It  will  be  seen  that  Mr.  Lushing 
ton  is  not  one  of  those  who  think  it  necessary  to 
write  down  to  the  comprehension  of  working  men  : — 
"  Perhaps  the  first  sensation  of  the  reader  on  opening 
these  massive  volumes  will  be  one  of  bewilderment, 
and  unwillingness  to  traverse  any  such  mountain  of 
knowledge.  But  on  better  consideration  he  will  feel 
two  things  ;  first,  that  kind  of  reverence  which  the 
spectacle  of  any  great  human  labour  cannot  but  call 
forth  ;  and  secondly,  that  this  (or  indeed  any)  Cyclo 
paedia  is  a  witness  to  the  inexhaustible  interest  of 
reality  and  simple  truth.  He  will  see  that  it  is  in 
fact  a  record  of  a  thousand  thousand  conquests  over 


464  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE: 

thick  night,  won  in  many  generations  by  far-reaching 
industry,  and  patient  intelligence,  in  many  cases 
even — say  the  discovery  of  America — by  downright 
unmistakeable  valour :  and  so  gazing  on  these 
columns,  there  may  come  flashing  through  his  mind 
something  of  the  exultation  with  which  a  people 
greets  a  victorious  army  returning  homeward.  At 
least  he  cannot  but  observe  how  the  age  in  which  we 
live  is  assiduously  minding  and  doing  her  business  ; 
everywhere  extending  and  consolidating  positive 
knowledge  ;  with  honest  sober  eyes  scrutinising  the 
past  of  human  history,  studying  the  starry  heavens, 
the  solid  earth,  and  all  living  things,  tracking  every 
where  the  dominion  of  stedfast  laws,  then  recording 
what  is  found,  for  ourselves  and  for  those  who  come 
after.  A  Cyclopedia  witnesses  that  all  these  things 
are  being  done." 

In  1854  I  was  instigated  by  an  article  in  "  The 
Times"  seriously  to  contemplate  the  task  of  writing  a 
general  history  of  England.  Lord  John  Russell  had 
delivered  an  address  at  Bristol  on  the  study  of  his 
tory,  and  the  leading  journal  took  up  the  subject  of 
the  noble  speaker's  complaint  "  that  we  have  no 
other  history  of  England  than  Hume's" — that  "when 
a  young  man  of  eighteen  asks  for  a  history  of 
England,  there  is  no  resource  but  to  give  him 
Hume."  I  had  published  "  The  Pictorial  History  of 
England"  some  years  before — in  many  respects  a 
valuable  history,  but  one  whose  limits  had  gone  far 
beyond  what,  as  its  projector,  I  had  originally  con 
templated.  I  altogether  rejected  the  idea  of  making 
an  abridgment  of  that  history.  Many  materials 
for  a  History  of  ike  People  had  been  collected  by  me 


THE    THIBD    EPOCH.  465 

without  any  immediate  object  of  publication.  The 
remarks  of  "  The  Times"  led  me  to  depart  from  my 
original  design  of  writing  a  Domestic  History  of 
England  apart  from  its  Public  History.  Upon  a 
more  extended  plan,  I  would  endeavour  to  trace 
through  our  long  continued  annals  the  essential  con 
nection  between  our  political  history  and  our  social. 
To  accomplish  this,  I  would  not  keep  the  People  in 
the  background,  as  in  many  histories,  and  I  would 
call  my  work  "The  Popular  History  of  England." 

For  more  than  a  year  I  was  gradually  preparing 
for  my  task,  and  was  ready  to  begin  the  printing  at 
the  end  of  1855.  It  was  to  be  published  in  monthly 
parts.  My  publishers  desiring  that  the  first  part 
should  contain  an  introduction,  setting  forth  the 
objects  of  a  new  history  of  England,  I  was  induced 
to  explain  my  motives  for  undertaking  it,  with  a  sin 
cerity  which  perhaps  may  be  deemed  imprudent.  It 
may  be  as  imprudent  for  the  historian  as  for  the 
statesman  to  make  any  general  profession  of  prin 
ciples  at  the  onset  of  his  career.  The  succession  of 
events  in  either  case  might  modify  his  past  con 
victions.  But  I  have  no  reason  to  depart  in  letter  or 
spirit  from  what  I  wrote  :  "  The  People,  if  I  under 
stand  the  term  rightly,  means  the  Commons  of  these 
realms,  and  not  any  distinct  class  or  section  of  the 
population.  Ninety  years  ago,  Goldsmith  called  the 
'  middle  order  of  mankind '  the  '  People,'  and  those 
below  them  the  '  Rabble.'  We  have  outlived  all 
this.  A  century  of  thought  and  action  has  widened 
and  deepened  the  foundations  of  the  State.  This 
People,  then,  want  to  find,  in  the  history  of  their 
country,  something  more  than  a  series  of  annals, 
either  of  policy  or  war.  In  connection  with  a  faithful 


466  PASSAGES   OF   A   WORKING   LIFE: 

narrative  of  public  affairs,  they  want  to  learn  their 
own  history — how  they  have  grown  out  of  slavery, 
out  of  feudal  wrong,  out  of  regal  despotism, — into 
constitutional  liberty,  and  the  position  of  the  greatest 
estate  of  the  realm." 

In  the  summer  of  1858  I  had  completed  four 
volumes  of  my  history,  reaching  the  period  of  the 
Revolution  of  1688.  In  the  postscript  to  the  fourth 
volume  I  endeavoured  to  illustrate  the  principle,  so 
well  defined  by  my  friend  Mr.  Samuel  Lucas  in  a 
Lecture  on  Social  Progress,  that  the  history  of  every 
nation  "  has  been  in  the  main  sequential " — that 
each  of  its  phases  has  been  "  the  consequence  of 
some  prior  phase,  and  the  natural  prelude  of  that 
which  succeeded  it."  I  pointed  out  that  the  early 
history  of  the  Anglican  Church  was  to  be  traced  in 
all  the  subsequent  elements  of  our  ecclesiastical 
condition  ;  that  upon  the  Roman  and  Saxon  civiliza 
tion  were  founded  many  of  the  principles  of  govern 
ment  which  still  preserved  their  vitality ;  that  the 
Norman  despotism  was  absorbed  by  the  Anglo-Saxon 
freedom  ;  and  that  the  recognition  of  the  equal  rights 
of  all  men  before  the  Law  was  the  only  mode  by 
which  feudality  could  maintain  itself.  "  From  the 
deposition  of  Richard  the  Second  to  the  abdication 
of  James  the  Second,  every  act  of  national  resistance 
was  accomplished  by  the  union  of  classes,  and  was 
founded  upon  some  principle  of  legal  right  for  which 
there  was  legal  precedent.  Out  of  the  traditional 
and  almost  instinctive  assertion  of  the  popular  privi 
leges,  have  come  new  developments  of  particular 
reforms,  each  adapted  to  its  own  age,  but  all  springing 
out  of  that  historical  experience  which  we  recognise 
as  Constitutional." 


THE   TRIED   EPOCH.  467 

In  November,  18  62, 1  completed  the  book  upon  which 
I  had  been  employed  unremittingly  for  a  seventh  part 
of  my  working  life.  I  then  stated  in  a  postscript  that, 
with  the  exception  of  three  chapters  on  the  Fine 
Arts,  "  The  Popular  History"  had  been  wholly  written 
by  myself.  Being  the  production  of  one  mind,  I 
trusted  that  the  due  proportions  of  the  narrative, 
from  the  first  chapter  to  the  last,  had  been  main 
tained.  I  again  set  forth  the  principles  which  had 
enabled  me  to  carry  it  through  with  a  consistent 
purpose.  "  Feeling  my  responsibilities  to  be  increased 
by  the  fact  that  my  duty  was  to  impart  knowledge 
and  not  to  battle  for  opinions,  my  desire  has  been  to 
cherish  that  love  of  liberty  which  is  best  founded 
upon  a  sufficient  acquaintance  with  its  gradual  de 
velopment  and  final  establishment  amongst  us  ;  to 
look  with  a  tolerant  judgment  even  upon  those  who 
have  sought  to  govern  securely  by  governing  abso 
lutely  ;  to  trace  with  calmness  the  efforts  of  those 
who  have  imperilled  our  national  independence  by 
foreign  assault  or  domestic  treason,  but  never  to 
forget  that  a  just  love  of  country  is  consistent  with 
historical  truth  ;  to  carry  forward,  as  far  as  within  the 
power  of  one  who  has  watched  joyfully  and  hopefully 
the  great  changes  of  a  generation,  that  spirit  of  im 
provement,  which  has  been  more  extensively  and 
permanently  called  forth  in  the  times  of  which 
this  concluding  volume  treats  than  in  the  whole  pre 
vious  period  from  the  Revolution  of  1688." 

"  The  Popular  History  of  England  "  to  the  period 
of  the  Revolution  embraced  a  class  of  subjects  that 
was  once  considered  extraneous  to  history — the  pro 
gress  of  manufactures  and  commerce — the  develop 
ments  of  literature  and  the  arts — the  aspects  of 


468  PASSAGES    OF    A    WORKING    LIFE: 

manners  and  of  common  life.  The  same  principle 
was  constantly  kept  in  view  in  the  succeeding  four 
volumes,  which  brought  up  the  history  to  1849 — an. 
epoch  marked  by  the  final  extinction  of  the  Corn 
Laws.  This  large  class  of  subjects,  so  essentially 
connected  with  our  civil,  military,  and  religious  annals, 
was  treated  by  me,  "  not  in  set  dissertations  under 
distinct  heads,  separated  from  the  course  of  events  by 
long  intervals,  bat  in  frequent  notices,  either  in 
special  chapters  at  periods  marked  by  characteristics 
of  progress,  or  occurring  as  incidental  illustrations  of 
the  political  narrative."  The  experience  of -the  pre 
sent  generation  may  be  sufficient  to  trace  the  con 
nection  between  the  progress  of  good  government, 
following  the  gradual  discomfiture  of  corrupt  or  igno 
rant  government,  and  the  progress  of  industry,  art, 
and  letters,  maintaining  and  carrying  forward  the 
power  and  influence  of  political  improvement. 

The  proportions  of  those  chapters  of  my  Popular 
History  of  England  which  have  reference  to  the 
national  Industry  and  the  progress  of  the  Arts,  as 
compared  with  the  chapters  on  our  Civil,  Military, 
and  Religious  History,  scarcely  warrant  me  in  accept 
ing  the  title  which  has  been  conferred  upon  me, — that 
of  "  The  Boswell  of  Birmingham."  It  is  a  very 
pretty  piece  of  alliteration,  and  has  the  true  ring  of 
that  small  wit  which  goes  a  good  way  towards  the 
making  of  a  periodical  critic  of  the  insolent  order. 
In  the  four  first  volumes,  which  bring  the  history 
down  to  the  Revolution,  one-tenth  only  of  the  whole 
matter  is  occupied  with  the  subjects  of  Commerce 
and  Manufactures,  of  Science  and  Art,  of  Literature, 
of  the  Condition  of  the  People.  In  the  second  half 
of  the  work  about  one-fifth  of  the  whole  text  is 


THE    THIKD    EPOCH.  469 

devoted  to  these  subjects.  Of  the  eight  volumes, 
comprising  four  thousand  pages,  an  amount  equal 
to  one  volume  is  devoted  to  these  various  manifesta 
tions  of  the  progress  of  a  people.  Such  details  were 
once  considered  extraneous  to  history  proper ;  and  even 
now,  some  who  think,  or  affect  to  think,  that  history 
should  confine  itself  to  the  concerns  of  Courts  and 
Cabinets,  regard  them  as  vulgar.  Such,  especially, 
is  their  opinion  about  Commerce  and  Manufactures. 
Modern  statesmanship  has  a  different  creed.  It  has 
been  compelled  to  guide  its  course  of  political  action 
by  a  broad  view  of  the  social  condition  of  the  entire 
population,  rather  than  by  the  interests  or  prejudices 
of  a  party  or  a  class.  Never  in  our  own  country, 
and  to  a  certain  extent  in  other  countries,  had  the 
claims  of  industry — not  upon  patronage,  not  upon 
protection,  not  upon  bounties,  but  simply  to  be  left 
free  to  work  out  its  own  good — been  more  regarded 
in  the  highest  places,  as  the  one  great  foundation  of 
national  prosperity.  The  slightest  glance  at  the  early 
history  of  England  will  show  that  with  the  prosperity 
of  industry,  and  that  security  of  property,  which  was 
necessary  for  its  more  general  distribution,  gradually 
came  internal  tranquillity,  in  spite  of  disputed  suc 
cessions  and  constant  attempts  to  put  the  neck  of 
one  class  under  the  heel  of  another.  The  "hostile 
armies"  were,  in  every  succeeding  generation,  be 
coming  reduced  in  numbers,  and  more  and  more 
open  to  the  reconciliation  of  their  conflicting  preten 
sions.  As  the  mediaeval  castles  gradually  became 
mansions  ;  as  the  privileges  of  a  caste  were  put  away, 
like  "  unscoured  armour  hung  by  the  wall ;"  as  there 
grew,  out  of  feudal  exclusiveness,  an  aristocracy  not 
alien  to  the  commonalty  ;  the  yeoman,  the  merchant, 


470  PASSAGES    OF    A    WORKING    LIFE  I 

the  artisan,  and  last  of  all  the  peasant,  came  to  be 
regarded  as  integral  portions  of  the  state.  Then, 
and  not  till  then,  was  society  secure  in  the  established 
reign  of  law  and  order.  Then,  and  not  till  then, 
could  those  who  did  not  labour  with  their  hands  sit 
secure  in  their  homes,  even  should  an  occasional 
demagogue  attempt  to  re-kindle  the  lights  and  fires 
of  the  fourteenth  century  to  the  tune  of — 

"  When  Adam  delved  and  Eve  span, 
Who  was  then  the  gentleman  ?  " 

I  might  run  over  every  era  of  our  modern  history 
to  show  how,  with  the  development  of  Industry  and 
the  accumulation  of  Wealth,  those  who  have  been 
seeking  "  to  diminish  or  destroy  oppressive  and 
tyrannous  privileges  and  customs"  have  been  con 
strained  to  employ  other  weapons  than  physical  force. 
There  was  a  time  when  "  resistance  was  an  ordinary 
remedy  for  political  distempers — a  remedy  which  was 
always  at  hand,  and  which,  though  doubtless  sharp 
at  the  moment,  produced  no  deep  or  lasting  ill 
effects."  The  historian  marks  the  difference  of  our 
own  times  ;  when  "  resistance  must  be  regarded  as  a 
cure  more  desperate  than  almost  any  malady  that 
can  afflict  the  state."  But  there  is  something  better 
than  the  sword,  if  occasion  should  arise  for  uttering 
again  the  ancient  demand  for  "redress  of  griev 
ances  ;"  and  Macaulay  shows  us  the  alternative  : 
"  As  we  cannot,  without  the  risk  of  evils  from  which 
the  imagination  recoils,  employ  physical  force  as  a 
check  on  misgovernment,  it  is  evidently  our  wisdom 
to  keep  all  the  constitutional  checks  on  misgovern 
ment  in  the  highest  state  of  efficiency  ;  to  watch 


THE    THIRD    EPOCH.  471 

with  jealousy  the  first  beginnings  of  encroachment, 
and  never  to  suffer  irregularities,  even  when  harmless 
in  themselves,  to  pass  unchallenged."*  The  old  army 
of  resistance  has  become  a  Constabulary  Force, 
equipped  only  with  the  staff  that  is  the  symbol  of 
Law  and  Order. 

Here,  strictly  speaking,  terminates  the  narrative  of 
my  labour  and  my  observation  during  half  a  century. 
This  Chapter  records  the  principal  employment  of 
my  time,  to  the  end  of  1862.  I  regard  the  chief  part 
of  that  occupation,  during  seven  years,  as  having 
been  to  me  a  source  of  happiness.  Removed,  in  a 
great  degree,  from  commercial  labours  and  anxieties, 
that  continuous  direction  of  my  mind  to  a  subject  so 
interesting  and  engrossing  as  a  General  History  of 
England,  had  a  tranquillizing  influence  ;  and  pre 
pared  me  to  look  back  upon  my  past  career  with  some 
thing  like  a  philosophical  estimate  of  its  good  and 
evil  fortune. 

Until  the  Septuagenarian  shall  hear  "  kind 
Nature's  signal  to  retreat,"  Rest  and  Retrospection 
properly  succeed  the  excitements  of  "a  Working 
Life."  The  task  of  writing  these  "  Passages "  has 
been  at  once  Rest  and  Retrospection.  It  has  in 
volved  no  laborious  research  ;  it  has  compelled  no 
violent  suppression  of  natural  egotism  to  forbear 
speaking  of  personal  matters  that  could  have  no 
interest  for  others  ;  it  has  demanded  little  more  than 
an  accurate  memory  of  former  events,  and  a  candid 
and  charitable  estimate  of  rny  contemporaries.  Taken 
altogether,  this  also  has  been  a  pleasurable  task  ; 

*  Macaulay,   "  History  of  England,"  1st.  ed.,  Vol.  1.,  p.  36. 


472  PASSAGES    OF    A    WOKKING    LIFE: 

and,  to  compare  small  things  with  great,  the  "  sober 
melancholy  "  which  Gibbon  felt  when  he  wrote  "  the 
last  lines  of  the  last  page  "  of  his  immortal  History, 
comes  over  me,  as  I  contemplate  taking  a  final  leave 
"  of  an  old  and  agreeable  companion." 

The  fiftieth  anniversary  of  my  marriage  has  just 
"passed.  Half  a  century  of  congenial  wedlock  is  a 
blessing  accorded  to  few.  It  brought  with  it  the 
further  blessing  of  a  family  united  in  love ;  of  a 
home  where  cheerful  faces  ever  welcomed  me. 
During  forty  years  I  had  known  no  great  sorrow. 
I  had  not  been  bereft  of  any  one  of  those  who  were 
the  joy  of  my  manhood,  and  the  comfort  of  my  age. 
A  dark  cloud  has  cast  its  solemn  shadow  over  my 
Golden  Bridal;  but  I  feel  that  our  griefs,  and  the 
consolations  which  should  come  with  them,  are  for 
ourselves,  and  not  for  the  outer  world.  Taken  as  a 
whole,  my  life  has  been  a  happy  one. 

During  the  progress  of  these  "  Passages,"  I  have, 
as  far  as  I  could,  steadily  resisted  the  temptation  of 
entering  upon  any  details  of  my  private  circum 
stances  or  domestic  relations.  If,  in  closing  this 
narrative,  I  have  stepped  for  an  instant  across  the 
boundary  line  which  I  prescribed  to  myself,  and  if 
I  look  not  beyond  my  own  home  for  one  to  whom  I 
can  offer  a  concluding  tribute  of  affection,  I  must  be 
forgiven,  in  the  consideration  that  "  out  of  the 
abundance  of  the  heart  the  mouth  speaketh  :" 


TO    MY   WIPE; 

TO  HER  WHO   HAS   BEEN  THE   BEST  FRIEND, 

THE   ADVISER,    THE   SYMPATHIZER,    THE    CONSOLES, 

DURING      HALF      A      CENTURY      OF      MY      WORKING      LIFE, 

I    INSCRIBE   THIS    RECORD, 
WITH    A    GRATEFUL    HEART   TO   THE   GIVER   OF   ALL   GOOD. 

January  16,  1866. 


**AND  HEBR  WILL  I  MAKE  AN  BND.  AKD  IF  I  HAVE  DONE  WELL,  AND 
AS  IS  FITTING  THE  STORY,  IT  IS  THAT  WHICH  I  DESIBED  ;  BUT  IF  SLENDERLY 
AND  MEANLY,  IT  13  THAT  WHICH  I  COULD  ATTAIN  UNTO."— II.  MaCCObeSS,  XV., 

87,  38. 


INDEX    OF   PERSONS 

MENTIONED  AS  CONTEMPORARIES  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 


AIRY,  GEORGE  B.,  350. 
Allen,  William,  315. 
Althorp,  Lord,  321,  373. 
Amelia,  Princess,  74,  75. 
Arnold,  Dr,  157,  228,  335-6-7, 

448,  452. 
Arnott,  Dr.  Neil,  167,  313,  433, 

434. 

Auckland,  Lord,  321,  324,  325. 
Ayrton,  William,  364. 

BALDWIN,  ROBERT,  180,  185. 
Baley,  Dr.,360. 
Battiscomb,  Mr.,  44. 
Beaufort,  Captain  Francis,  300, 

301,  310,  359. 

Beckford,  William,  223,  224. 
Bell,  Sir  Charles,  313. 
Bentham,    Jeremy,    259,    361, 

362. 

Birnie,  Sir  Richard,  126. 
Bisset,  Andrew,  379. 
Blackwood,  William,  181. 
Blaz  de  Bury,  Madame,  425. 
Bliicher,  Marshal,  114. 
Blunt,  Rev.  Walter,  195,  197. 


Bonaparte,  Napoleon,  58,  59, 
91,  107,  113. 

Bosanquet,  Mr.,  40. 

Britton,  John,  31, 169,  188,  274. 

Broderip,  William  John,  359. 

Brooks,  William,  135. 

Brougham,  Henry,  Lord,  82-4, 
99, 100,  135,  232,  233,  282-5, 
293,  300,  301,  303,  304,  305, 
308,  309,  311,  322,  323,  327, 
346-8,  350,  373,  402,  403,  424. 

Brownley,  Mr.,  88,  89. 

Buckingham,  J.  S.,  288,  289. 

Burdett,  Sir  Francis,  82. 

Burney,  Dr.,  41,  43. 

Burney,  Fanny,  34,  41,  45. 

Byron,  Lord,  13, 15,  16,  85,  86, 
134,  254,  255. 

CAMPBELL,  THOMAS,  185,  254. 
Canning,  George,  20,  66,  82,  84, 

109,  187,  198,  289,  290. 
Carlyle,  Thomas,  62,  446. 
Caroline,  Queen,  146, 166,  172, 

173. 
Carter,  Thomas,  425. 


476 


INDEX. 


Castlereagh,  Lord,  82,  84,  187. 
Cattermole,  George,  169,  225. 
Chambonas,  Marquis  of,  109. 
Charlotte,    Princess,   119,   120. 
Charlotte,  Queen,  103. 
Chitty,  Mr.,  165. 
Clarke,  Mrs.  Cowden,  391. 
Clarke,  Thomas,  367,  395. 
Clowes,  William,  117,  340. 
Coates,  Thomas,   294,  300,  308, 

332,  369. 
Cobbett,  William,  98,  130,  152, 

157,  160. 

Cochrane,  Captain  John  Dun- 
das,  263. 
Colburn,  Mr.,  184, 189, 190, 275, 

281. 

Cole,  John,  167,  168. 
Coleridge,   Derwent,  200,   209, 

212,  219,  226, 240. 
Coleridge,  Hartley,  436,  437. 
Coleridge,  Henry  Nelson,  202, 

204,  212,  232,  388. 
Coleridge,  S.  T.,  141,  431-3. 
Collier,  J.  Payne,  395,  396. 
Colnaghi,  Messrs.,  252,  262. 
Conolly,  Dr.,  319. 
Constable,  William,  192,  275, 

278,  280. 
Cooke,  G.F.,45. 
Copley,  J.  S.,  117. 
Coulson,  William,  319. 
Cowper,  Edward,  352-4. 
Craik,  George  Lillie,  322,323, 

331,  379,  383,  424. 
Creswick,  Thomas,  51,  392. 
Croker,  J.  W.,  82, 188,  252,  390, 

393,  396. 

Croly,  Rev.  Dr.,  265,276. 
Cruikshank,  George,  113,  159. 


Cunningham,  Allan,  292. 
Cunningham,  Peter,  87. 

DALLAS,     REV.    ALEXANDER, 

255,  257. 

Dallas,  Robert  Charles,  255-8. 
Daniel,  J.  F.,  300,  319. 
Davis,  Sir  J.  F.,  359,  424. 
Davis,  J.  P.,  89,  265,  356. 
De  la  Beche,  Henry,  319. 
Delany,  Mrs.,  33. 
De  Luc,  Jean  Andre,  45. 
De    Morgan,    Augustus,    317, 

331,  349. 
Denman,    Thomas,    160,    321, 

403. 
De  Quincey,   T.,  185,  186,  219, 

234-7,  241,  242,  372,  394,  438, 

439. 
Dickens,  Charles,  222,  404,  426, 

431,  443,  444. 
Dickson,  Dr.  Robert,  360. 
Dodd,  George,    352,   383,  407, 

428. 

Donaldson,  Dr.,  362. 
Donkin,  Mr.,  117. 
Drakard,  Mr.,  99. 
Duncan,  James,  277. 
Dupin,  M.  Charles,  284. 

EASTLAKE,  SIB  CHARLES,  356. 
Edwards,  George,  144, 145. 
Eldon,  Lord,  257,  258,  290. 
Ellenborough,   Lord,    99,  100, 

102,  159. 

Ellesmere,  Lord,  459. 
Ellis,    Sir    Henry,     55,    379, 

388. 

Ellis,  T.  F.,  316. 
Exmouth,  Lord,  166, 167. 


INDEX. 


477 


FAIRHOLT,  WILLIAM,  383,  384. 
Falconer,  Thomas,  320. 
Fisher,  Dr.,  65. 
Forster,  John,  445. 
Frere,  John,  20. 
Fry,  Alfred,  159,  160. 

GALT,  JOHN,  182. 
Gayangos,  Pascual  de,  363. 
Gent,  Thomas,  264,  265. 
George  III.,  18,  24,  37,  38,  44, 

45,  52,  74,   76,  77,  93,    126, 

146-9. 

George  IV.,  146, 172. 
Gibbs,  Sir  Vicary,  82,  99. 
Gillman,  James,  431,  432. 
Goldsmid,  Isaac  Lyon,  314,  315. 

HALFORD,  SIB  HENRY,  107, 
108. 

Hallam,  Arthur  H.,  372. 

Hallam,  Henry,  309. 

Hampton,  Rev.  James,  1. 

Hanson,  Mr.,  257. 

Harvey,  William,  384,  408. 

Hazlitt,  William,  226. 

Head,  Sir  Edmund,  356. 

Heath,  Joseph,  54. 

Herschel,  Dr.,  44. 

Herschel,  Sir  John,  72. 

Heywood,  James,  440. 

Hill,  Matthew  Davenport,  170, 
187,  222,  228,  232,  234,  238, 
283,  284,  293,  300,  303,  305, 
312,  323,  326,  373,  395,  402; 
403. 

Hill,  Rowland,  312,  374. 

Hobhouse,  John  Cam,  256: 
257. 

Hogg,  Mr.,  44. 


Holloway,  Mr.,  52. 

Hone,  William,  159.     ' 

Hood,  Thomas,  185,  264,  276, 

438,  440. 

Homer,  Francis,  82. 
Horner,  Leonard,  317. 
Hunt,  John,  70,  99,  100,  176, 

177. 
Hunt,  Leigh,  70,  99,  100,  114, 

119,  176,  210,  383,  388,  431, 

438,  439. 

INGALTON,  Mr.,  130. 
Ireland,  William  Henry,  262. 

JACKSON,  COLONEL,  359. 
Jameson,  Mrs.,  388,  407. 
Jardine,  David,  320,  350. 
Jerdan,  William,  81,  276. 
Jerrold,  Douglas,  264,  440-2. 
Jesse,  Mr.,  392,  393. 

KEATE,  Dr.,  144. 

Keats,  John,  134. 

Kent,  Duchess  of,  295. 

Ker,    H.   Bellenden,    311,   372, 

376,  402. 
Key,  Thomas  Hewitt,  317,  362, 

402,  403. 

Kindersley,  R.  T.,  258. 
Kitchener,  Dr.,  276. 
Kitto,    Dr.   John,    332-4,   377, 

378,  428. 

Knight,  Charles,  sen.,  20. 
Krasinski,  Count,  364. 

LAMB,  CHARLES,  185,  186. 
Landor,  Walter  Savage,  431. 
Lane,  George,  79. 
Lane,  Mrs.,  85. 


478 


INDEX. 


Lankester,    Dr.    Edwin,     360, 

462. 

Lansdowne,  Lord,  254,  369. 
Layard,  Mr.,  437. 
Lefevre,  Sir  John  Shaw,  316, 

402. 

Lewes,  G.  H.,  424. 
Lewis,   Sir  George  Cornewall, 

320,  362. 
Lind,  Dr.,  43. 
Lindley,  Dr.  John,  330. 
Locker,  Admiral,  153. 
Locker,  Edw.  Hawke,  153, 154, 

164,  165,  172,  275. 
Lockhart,  J.  G.,  181,  280. 
Lodge,  Edmund,  372. 
Long,    Professor  George,  316, 

331,  346,  347,  362,  395,  402, 

403. 
Lubbock,  John  William,  300, 

315. 

Lucas,  Samuel,  456. 
Lupton,  Mr.,  372. 
Lushington,  V.,463. 
Lyndhurst,  Lord,  357. 

MACAULAY,  T.  B.,  LORD,  200, 

209, 212,  216-19,  221,  228-31, 

238,  437,  438. 
Macfarlane,  Charles,  331,  379, 

380. 
Maginn,    Dr.     William,    265, 

390. 

Major,  John,  192. 
Maiden,  Henry,  209,  212,  219, 

232,  238,  240,  317. 
Malkin,  Arthur,  316,  372. 
Malkin,  Benjamin,  316. 
Maltby,  Dr.,  314. 
Manning,  James,  320. 


Martineau,  Miss  H..  168,  435, 

448. 

Martin,  John,  428. 
Means,  Rev.  C.,  359. 
Hellish,  Mr.,  40. 
Merivale,  John  Herman,  320. 
Mill,  James,  309. 
Moore,  Thomas,  99,  254,  256-8. 
Moore,  General,  70. 
Moultrie,  Rev.  John,  199,  201, 

207,  208,  212,  215,  219,  221, 

226,  229,  231,  241,  268,  291. 
Mudford,  William,  89. 
Mudie,  Robert,  261. 
Mulready,  William,  357. 
Murray,  John,  190,   256,   285. 

306,  307,  369. 

NELSON,  HORATIO,  LORD,  58, 

153. 

Nicholas,  Rev.  Dr.,  54. 
Norris,  Edwin,  354-6. 
Northumberland,  Duke  of,  117. 

ORD,  WILLIAM    HENRY,  228, 

375. 
Owen,  Robert,  434,  435. 

PAGET,  J.,  360. 
Palmerston,  Lord,  82. 
Parnell,  Sir  Henry,  321. 
Parry,  Fras.  Charles,  135. 
Parry,  Captain  William,  259. 
Perceval,  Hon.  Spencer,  82,84. 
Peter  Pindar,  36,  50. 
Phillips,  John,  360. 
Phillips,  Samuel,  342,345. 
Pickering,  William,  192. 
Pitt,  William,  28,  42,  58 
Place,  Francis,  327. 


INDEX. 


479 


Planche,  J.  R.,383. 

Platt,  John  Clarke,  383. 

Pole,  Mr.,  40. 

Ponsonby,  G.  B.,  82. 

Porny,  M.,  45,  56. 

Porter,  George  Richardson,  325, 

402. 
Poynter,    Edward   (should    be 

Ambrose),  379,  384. 
Praed,  Winthrop    Mackworth, 

195-8,  201,  205-7,  210,   212, 

219,  227,   228,    239-41,  244, 

290,  291,  408,  438. 
Priestley,  Richard,  191. 
Pringle,  Thomas,  331,  332. 

QUIN,  MR.,  89. 

RAMMOHUN,  ROY,  435. 
Ramsay,  Alexander,  338,  425, 

463. 
Reynolds,      John      Hamilton, 

185. 
Rham,    Rev.  William    Lewis, 

350,  351. 

Rice,  Spring,  321,  344,  375. 
Ritter,  Karl,  359. 
Robinson,  Frederick,  84,  275. 
Rodd,  Thomas,  386,  387. 
Roget,  Dr.  P.  M.,  313. 
Romilly,  Sir  Samuel,  82. 
Rose,  George,  82. 
Rosen,     Frederick     Augustus, 

364. 

Russell,  Lord  John,  308,  321. 
Rutter,  Mr.,  223. 
Ryder,  Hon.  Richard,  82. 

ST.  LEGER,  BARRY,  236,  240, 
241,  244,  248. 


Saunders,  John,  383,407,424, 

429. 
Scarlett,  Robert,  101,  157,  232, 

233, 

Schmitz,  Leonard,  362,  363. 
Scott,  John,  99,  180,  185. 
Scott,  Sir  Walter,  116,377,278, 

280,  286. 

Sheepshanks,  John,  350. 
Sheepshanks,  Rev.  Richard, 

349. 

Sheil,  Richard  Lalor,  88,  89. 
Shelley,  P.  B.,  44. 
Sheridan,  R.  B.,  82. 
Siddons,  Mrs.,  86. 
Simon,  John,  360. 
Smith,  Henry,  359. 
Smith,  John,  20. 
Smith,  Philip,  362. 
Smith,  Robert,  20. 
Smith,  Dr.  Southwood,  167,  361, 

362. 

Smith,  Dr.  William,  362. 
Soane,  Sir  John,  232. 
Southey,  Robert,  127. 
Spencer,  Earl,  409. 
Steer,  John,  165,  187. 
Sterling,  John,  397. 
Sumner,  Rev.  Charles  Richard, 

255,  267-9,  274,  280. 
Sunnier,  Rev.  John  Bird,  132, 

161. 

TALFOURD,     MR.    SERJEANT, 

441. 

Talma,  Francois  Joseph,  273. 
Talbot,  Fox,  358. 
Taylor,  Sir  Herbert,  145,  146. 
Tennyson,  A.,  431,  445,  446. 
Thackeray,  W.  M.,  443,  444. 


480 


INDEX. 


Thorns,  William  J.,  382. 
Thomson,  Dr.  Anthony  Todd, 

319. 

Thomson,  Christopher,  328. 
Thorne,  James,  407,  462. 
Tierney,  George,  82. 
Tooke,    William,     157,     308, 

336. 

Trench,  Colonel,  253. 
Turner,  Rev.  J.  M.,  165,  275. 
Turton,  Sir  Thomas,  83. 

UPCOTT,  MR.,  135. 
Ure,  Dr.  Andrew,  354. 

VICTORIA,   QUEEN,   102,  295, 

404. 

Vieusseux,  Andrew,  359,  363. 
Vigors,  Nicholas  A.,  319. 

WALKER,   WILLIAM  SIDNEY, 

114,  199,  200,  212,  268. 
Walter,  John,  116. 
Ward,  John,  336. 


Weir,  William,  359,  379,  383, 

403. 

Wellesley,  Marquis,  84. 
Wellington,  Duke  of,  70,  91, 

103,  104,  106,  113,  115. 
Whewell,  William,  228. 
Whitbread,  Samuel,  82,  84,  87, 

110. 

Whittaker,  G.  B.,  278. 
Whittaker,  T.  B.,  275,  276. 
Wilson,  Professor  John,   181, 

182,  213,  438,  439. 
Winchester,  Bishop  of,  369. 
Wittich,  William,  359. 
Woollcombe,  Mr.  H.,  332. 
Wordsworth/William,  134,  431, 

435-7. 

Wofnum,  R.  N.,  356,  429. 
Wrottesley,  John,  300, 316,  402, 

403. 

Wyatt,  James,  34. 
Wyatville,  Jeffrey,  274. 

YORK,  DUKE  OF,  71. 
Young,  Charles,  86. 


Supplement  to  Catalogue,  No.  2.  February,  1874:. 


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-  The  Same.     Illustrated  edition.     With  fine  engravings  on  steel.     I2mo, 
cloth  extra,  $2.50. 

-  Orations  and  Addresses.     Including  those  delivered  on  Irving,  Cooper, 
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BEST  READING,  THE.  A  Classified  Bibliography  for  Easy 
Reference.  With  Hints  on  the  Selection  of  Books  ;  on  the  Formation 
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Librarian,  Bookbuyer,  and  Bookseller.  The  Classified  Lists,  arranged  under 
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LACKWELL.     Studies  in  General  Science.     By  Antoinette  Brown 
fj     Blackwell.     I2mo  (uniform  with  Child's  "  Benedicite").     Cloth  extra, 

$2.25. 

"  The  writer  evinces  admirable  gifts  both  as  a  student  and  thinker.  She  brings  a 
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"The  idea  of  the  work  is  an  excellent  one,  and  it  is  ably  developed."—  Boston  Tran- 
tcript. 

^~lTy  LAKE.  The  Production  of  the  Precious  Metals  ;  or,  Statistical 
fj  Notices  of  the  Principal  Gold  and  Silver  Producing  Regions 
of  the  World.  With  a  chapter  upon  the  Unification  of  Gold  and  Silver 
Coinage.  By  Wm.  P.  Blake,  Commissioner  from  the  State  of  California  to  the 
Paris  Exposition  of  1867.  One  volume,  8vo,  cloth  extra,  $2.50. 


14  G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS  PUBLICATIONS. 


H 
H 


OOD.    Tales  and  Extravaganzas.     Illustrated.     $2. 

Whims  and  Oddities.     Illustrated.     $1.75. 

OOD.     Tylney   Hall.     A   Novel.      By   Thomas    Hood.     I2mo,    cloth 
illustrated,  (in  "  Library  of  Choice  Reading,")  $2.     Also,  bound  uni- 
form  with  the  Works,  $2.25. 

OOD'S   PROSE    WORKS.     Four  volumes,  crown  8vo.  cloth  $9.00. 

POETICAL  WORKS.     Three  volumes,  crown  8vo,  cloth,  $6.75. 
POETICAL  WORKS.     People's  Edition.     One  volume,  $3. 

PROSE  AND  POETICAL  WORKS.    People's  Edition.    Two  vol 

ames.     Cloth,  in  box,  $6. 

"Hood's  name  will  be  a  household  word  to  all  who  speak  the  English  language."  - 
London  Quarterly  Review. 

POEMS,      Illustrated   (Wanstead)   edition.     The   Poems   of  Thomas 

Hood.     Artist's  edition.     With  illustrations  by  Darley,  Ey tinge,  Gustave  Dore 
Secombe,  Birket  Foster,  and  the  Etching  Club.     The  letter-press  handsomely 
printed  on  tinted  paper,  with  red  lines.     Small  quarto,  uniform  with  the  Artist'* 
edition  of  the  Sketch  Book.     Cloth  extra,  with  handsome  stamp,  gilt  edges,  $5 
morocco,  $10. 

HOPE.    Till  the  Doctor  Comes,  and  how  to  Help  Him.    A  Manual 
for  Emergencies,  Accidents,  etc.     By  George  A.  Hope,  M.D.     Revised 
with  additions,  by  a  New  York  Physician.     I2mo,  cloth,  60  cts. 

"  A  very  readable,  as  well  as  useful,  little  book ;  one  that  will  keep  people  from  useless 
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HYACINTHE.      The    Family.      A    Series  of  Discourses   by  Father 
Hyacinthe.     To   which   are   added   The   Education    of  the  Working 
Classes  ;  The   Church — Six  Conferences ;    Speeches   and   Addresses      With   an 
Historical  Introduction.     By  Hon.  John  Bigelow.     I2mo,  $1.50. 

N.  B. — Both  books  are  published  under  Father  Hyacinthe's  sanction,  and  he  receives  a 
copyright  on  the  sales. 

Life,  Speeches,  and  Discourses  of  Pere  Hyacinthe.     Edited  by 

Rev.  L.  W.  Bacon.     One  volume,  I2mo,  cloth,  $1.25. 

"We  are  quite  sure  that  these  Discourses  will  increase  Father  Hyacinthe's  reputation 
among  us  as  a  man  of  rare  intellectual  power,  genuine  eloquence,  ripe  scholarship,  and 
most  generous  sympathies."— National  Baptist,  Philadelphia. 

"  The  Discourses  will  be  found  fully  up  to  the  high  expectations  formed  from  the  great 
pi-iest's  protest  against  the  trammels  of  Romish  dogmatism." — Rochester  Democrat. 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS'  PUBLICATIONS.  21 

LOSSING.     A  History  of  England,  from  the  Earliest  Period  to  the 
Present  Time.   With  special  reference  to  the  Progress  of  the  People 
in  Civilization,  Literature,  and  the  Arts.     By  Benson  J.  Lossing,  author  of 
"  Pictorial  Field  Book  of  American  Revolution,'*  etc.     With  three  maps, 
Large  12mo,  cl  >th,  extra,  $2.50  ;  half  calf,  extra,  $4.50. 

"  This  work,  in  one  handsome  volume  of  about  600  pages,  has  been  carefully  prepared 
by  the  editor  for  popular  use.  It  is  a  very  comprehensive  outline  of  the  History  of  Eng 
land  from  the  time  of  the  Ancient  Britons  to  the  year  1870,  and  contains  every  leading  fact 
in  that  history  essential  to  a  general  understanding  of  the  progress  of  the  country  from  its 
barbarian  state  to  its  present  condition  of  highest  civilization. 

"  We  know  of  no  compendium  of  English  History  so  full  and  complete,*  so  methodized 
and  reliable,  and  at  the  same  time  so  attractively  and  powerfully  written.'  —College 
Courant. 

t  1\  /T  ACAULAY.  The  Complete  Works  of  Lord  Macaulay,  From 
IV JL  the  last  edition,  edited  by  his  sister,  Lady  Trevelyan.  Elegantly 
printed  on  tinted  paper  at  the  Riverside  Press,  and  containing  the  History 
of  England,  Essays,  Poems,  and  Speeches.  Sixteen  vols.,  crown  8vo,  extra 
cloth,  cut  or  uncut,  $36  ;  half  calf,  gilt  or  antique,  $64. 

| Critical,  Historical,  and  Miscellaneous  Essays.     With  a  Memoir, 

Index,  and  Portrait.     Riverside  Edition.     Six  vols.,  crown  8vo,  extra  cloth, 
cut  or  uncut,  $13.50  ;  half  calf,  gilt  or  antique,  $24. 

History  of  England.    By  Lord  Macaulay.   Student's  Edition.    Four 

vols.  12mo,  with  a  new  portrait  of  Macaulay.    Extra  cloth,  cut,  $7 ;  half 
calf,  gilt,  or  antique,  $16. 

MEMOIRS  OF  A  HUGUENOT  FAMILY.      A  veritable  History 
of  permanent  interest.     Translated  from  the  original  Autobiogra 
phy  of  Rev.  James  Fontaine.    By  Ann  Maury.     With  a  translation  of  the 
Edict  of  Nantes,  now  first  printed  in  English.     12mo,  pp.  508,  cloth,  extra, 

$1.75. 

"  The  History  of  the  Huguenot  cause  has  a  profound  significance  and  value  to  all  earn 
est  souls.1'— Liberal  Christian. 

"  It  is  a  good  book.1'— Nation,  N.  T. 

MATTLAND.    Higher  Law.    A  Romance.      By  Edward  Maitland, 
author  of  "  The  Pilgrim  and  the  Shrine."     12mo,  cloth,  $1.75. 

"  There  is  no  novel,  in  short,  which  can  be  compared  to  it  for  its  width  of  view,  its  cul 
tivation,  its  poetry,  and  its  deep  human  interest,  .  .  .  except  'Romola.'" — Westmin 
ster  Review. 

"Its  careful  study  of  character,  and  the  ingenuity  and  independence  of  its  specula 
tions,  will  commend  it  to  the  admiration  even  of  those  who  differ  from  its  conclusions 
most  gravely."— British  Quarterly  Review. 

The  Pilgrim  and  the  Shrine.     By  Edward  Maitland.      Third  edi 
tion.    12mo,  cloth,  $1.50. 

"One  of  the  wisest  and  most  charming  of  books."—  Westminster  Review, 


22  G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS'  PUBLICATIONS. 

MAYO.    Kaloolah :    The  Autobiography   of  Jonathan   Romer    of 
Nantucket.      Edited  by   W.   S.   Mayo,  M.D.     12mo,  cloth  extra 
$1.75. 

Some  2C,900  copies  of  this  celebrated  work  have  been  sold,  and  H  is  justly  entitled  to 
enduring  popularity. 

"  One  of  the  most  admirable  pictures  ever  produced  in  this  country." — Washington 
living. 

"  The  most  singular  and  captivating  romance  since  Robinson  Crusoe." — Home  Journal. 

"By  far  the  most  fascinating  and  entertaining  book  we  have  read  since  we  were 
bewitched  by  the  graceful  inventions  of  the  Arabian  Nights."— Democratic  Review. 

Never  Again.  A  new  work  by  the  author  of  "  Kaloolah."  Illus 
trated  with  numerous  engravings,  designed  and  engraved  by  Gaston  Fay. 
In  one  volume,  over  700  pages,  uniform  with  "  Kaloolah."  $2. 

"  Puts  its  author  in  the  front  rank  of  novelists."— -London  AtJwnceum. 

"  A  wholesome  book ;  one  that  really  holds  up  the  mirror  to  American  society." — .Y. 
Y.  Evening  Post. 

"  The  first  real  novel  of  American  society.  ...  It  will  be  read  from  cover  to  cover." 
— N.  T.  Times. 

The  Berber:  A  Romance  of   Morocco.    By  W.   S.  Mayo,  M.D., 

author  of  "  Kaloolah,"  "Never  Again,"  etc.  12mo,  cloth,  uniform  wUh 
"  Kaloolah."  $1.75. 

"A  Romance  of  the  highest  class,  replete  with  character,  plot  and  incident,  and  occu 
pying  ground  entirely  new?'1— Home  Journal. 

The  very  groat  favor  with  which  Dr.  Mayo's  last  work,  "Never  Again,"  has  been 
received,  has  induced  the  publishers  to  believe  that  new  editions  of  his  earlier  books,  which 
had  also  attained  great  popularity }  would  be  welcomed  by  the  reading  public.  Although  it 
is  twenty  years  since  the  publication  of  "  The  Berber,"  its  narrative  will  be  found  as  fresh, 
its  characterization  as  vivid,  and  its  pictures  of  life  as  accurate  to-day  as  they  were  show* 
to  be  then. 

MAYHEW.      Benjamin   Franklin.    The    Printer's  Boy,  the  Phil 
osopher,  and  the  Statesman.    A  Biography  for  Boys.    By  Henry 
Mayhew.     Illustrated.     18mo,  cloth  extra,  $1.50 

MEMORABLE  WOMEN.    By  Mrs.  Newton  Crossland.  With  eight 
illustrations  by  Birket  Foster.    One  vol.,  18mo,  cloth  extra,  $1.50. 
$  A  /T  ILMAN.    The  History  of  Christianity ;  from  the  Birth  of  Christ 
.IV  A      to  the  Abolition  of  Paganism  in  the  Roman  Empire.    By  the 
Rev.  H.  H.  Milman,  Dean  of  St.  Paul's,  etc.    New  edition,  three  vols.,  extra 
cloth,  $5.25  ;  half  calf,  $10.50. 

J The    History    of   Latin    Christianity ;    including    that    of   the 

Popes  to  the  Pontificate  of  Nicholas  V.  By  Dean  Milman.  Eight  vols. 
crown  8vo,  extra  cloth,  $14 ;  half  calf,  $28. 

{ The  History  of  the  Jews.    From  the  Earliest  Period  down  to 

Modern  Times.  By  Dean  Milman.  A  new  edition,  three  volumes  crown 
8vo,  extra  cloth,  $5.25  ;  half  calf,  $10.50. 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS'  PUBLICATIONS.  23 

MOLLOY.  Geology  and  Revelation  j  or,  The  Ancient  History  of 
the  Earth,  considered  in  the  Light  of  Geological  Facts  and 
Revealed  Religion.  With  illustrations.  By  the  Rev.  Gerald  Molloy,  D.D. 
With  an  Introduction  to  the  American  Edition  by  an  eminent  Geologist,  and 
an  Appendix  containing  Prof.  Dana's  Chapter  on  Cosmogony.  12mo,  cloth 
extra,  $2. 

"We  have  rarely  found  such  an  amount  and  variety  of  specific  information  brought  to- 
gether  with  more  fulness  and  force." — Boston  Transcript. 

NATIONAL  GALLERY  OF  AMERICAN  LANDSCAPE.     With 
twenty-four  superb  engravings  on  steel,  engraved  in  the  best  man- 
mer,  from  paintings  by  eminent  American  artists,  with  descriptions.     Atlas 
folio,  half  morocco,  gilt  edges,  $50. 

The  same,  in  portfolio,  $40. 

The  same,  proofs  on  India,  half  morocco,  $75. 

The  same,  Artists'  proofs,  $100. 

NEW  MERCANTILE  MAP  OF    THE  WORLD,  ON  MERCA- 
TOR'S  PROJECTION.      For  Merchants,  Shippers,  Ship  Owners 
etc.     Size  55  inches  by  40  inches. 

The  following  are  the  leading  features  of  this  Map — 

All  the  States,  Kingdoms,  and  Empires  of  the  World  are  exhibited,  by  the  aid  of  Color 
Printing,  in  a  clear  and  distinct  manner,  with  their  Sea-ports  and  Principal  Towns,  show 
ing  the  most  recent  changes  of  Boundaries,  and  also  the  latest  Geographical  Discoveries. 

The  recognized  steam  and  sailing  Routes  to  and  from  the  principal  Ports  of  the  World, 
with  the  distances  and  average  time  clearly  laid  down. 

The  principal  Overland  Telegraphs,  Submarine  Cables,  and  main  lines  of  Railways. 

The  Currents  of  the  Ocean,  with  arrows  showing  their  Course,  are  brought  out  dis 
tinctly,  but  not  obtrusively,  by  means  of  Coloring.  Warm  and  Cold  Currents  are  distin 
guished  by  a  simple  sign. 

The  Northern  and  Southern  limits  of  Icebergs  and  Drift  Ice  are  also  distinctly 
defined. 

The  Northern  and  Southern  limits  of  permanent  human  habitation  is  also  clearly 
shown. 

The  whole  forming  not  only  a  compendium  of  most  useful  information  for  all  parties 
engaged  in  Commerce,  but  also  an  ornament  alike  for  the  Counting  Room  and  the 
Library. 

Price  to  Subscribers,  mounted  on  cloth  and  Rollers,  or  in  cloth  case  foi 
Library,  $10. 

O'CONNOR,  W.  D.    Nettie  Renton ;  or,  The  Ghost.      A  Christmas 
Story.     IGmo.     Illustrated  by  Nast.     $1. 

N  THE  EDGE  OF  THE  STORM,    By  the  author  of  "  Mademoi 
selle  Mori."     12mo,  cloth,  with  Frontispiece,  $1.50  ;  gilt  extra,  $2. 

"  This  is  a  charming  story.  The  sympathy  which  the  author  evinces  towards  all  her 
personages,  and  the  justice  she  does  to  their  different  modes  of  thought  and  opinion,  are 
the  main  charm  of  the  book."— London  Athenceum. 

"This  book  is  altogether  a  delightful  one,  showing  great  knowledge,  a  rare  power  of 
writing,  and  a  far  rarer  artistic  mastery  over  form  and  detail."— Pall  Matt  Gazette. 


O 


'   mm  of  popular  flmtuak 

<Y  "     A*  *  ^Ifll 


HALF-HOURS  WITH  THE  MICROSCOPE. 
By  EDWIN  LANKESTER,  M.D.,  F.R.S.     Illustrated  by 
250  --Drawings  from  Nature.     i2mo,  tloth,  $1.25. 

"  This  beautiful  little  volume  is  a  very  complete  manual  for  the  amateur  micro- 
BC^pi*t.  *  *  *  The 'Half-Hours' are  filled  with  clear  and  agreeable  descriptions,  whilst 
eight  plates,  executed  with  the  most  beautiful  minuteness  and  sharpness,  exhibit  no 
less  than  250  objects  with  the  utmost  attainable  distinctness."—  Critic. 

HALF-HOURS  WITH  THE  TELESCOPE: 
Being  a  popular  Guide  to  the  Use  of  the  Telescope  as  a 
means  of  Amusement  and  Instruction.     Adapted  to  inexpen 
sive  instruments.     By  R.  A.  PROCTOR,  B.A.,  F.R.A.S.     1 2mo, 
cloth,  with  illustrations  on  stone  and  wood.     Price,  $1.25. 

41  It  is  crammed  with  starry  plates  on  wood  and  stone,  and  among  the  celestial 
phenomena  described  or  figured,  by  far  the  larger  number  may  be  profitably  examined 
with  small  telescopes."— Illustrated  Times. 

HALF-HOURS  WITH  THE  STARS: 
A  Plain  and  Easy  Guide  to  the  Knowledge  of  the  Constel 
lations,  showing  in  12  Maps,  the  Position  of  the  Principal  Star- 
Groups  Night  after  Night  throughout  the  Year,  with  introduc 
tion  and  a  separate  explanation  of  each  Map.  True  for  every 
Year.  By  RICHARD  A.  PROCTOR,  B.A.,  F.R.A.S.  Demy 
4to.  Price,  $2.25. 

"  Nothing  so  well  calculated  to  give  a  rapid  and  thorough  knowledge  of  the  position 
of  the  stars  in  the  firmament  has  ever  been  designed  or  published  hitherto.  Mr.  Proctor's 
'Half-Hours  with  the  Stars'  will  become  a  text-book  in  all  schools,  and  an  invaluable 
tid  to  all  teachers  of  the  young." — Weekly  Times. 

MANUAL   OF  POPULAR  PHYSIOLOGY: 
Being  an  Attempt  to  Explain  the  Science  of  Life  in 
Untechnical  Language.     By  HENRY  LAWSON,  M.D.      i8mo, 

with  90  Illustrations.     Price,  $1.25. 

Man's  Mechanism,  Life,  Force,  Food,  Digestion,  Respiration,  Heat,  the 
Skin,  the  Kidneys,  Nervous  System,  Organs  of  Sense,  &c.,  &c.,  &c. 

"Dr  Lawson  has  succeeded  in  rendering  his  manual  amusing  as  well  as  instructive. 
All  the  great  facts  in  human  physiology  are  presented  to  the  reader  successively  •  and 
either  for  private  reading  or  for  classes,  this  manual  will  be  found  well  adapted  for 
initiating  the  uninformed  into  the  mysteries  of  the  structure  and  function  of  their  own 
bodies. ' ' — A  thenceum. 

A  DICTIONARY   OF  DERIVATIONS 
Of  the  English  Language,  in  which  each  word  is  traced 
to  its  primary  root.    Forming  a  Text-Book  of  Etymology,  with 
Definitions  and  the  Pronunciation  of  each  word.     i6mo.  $1.00, 

HAND-BOOK  OF  SYNONYMS 

Of  the  English  Language,  with  Definitions,  &c.     i6mo, 
cloth.  $1.00. 

***  These  two  Manuals  are  very  comprehensive  in  a  small  compass 


VKTHAT  IS  FREE  TRADE! 

*  *      AN  ADAPTATION  FOR  THE  AMERICAN  READER  OF  BASTIAT*S 

'  SOPHISMES   ECONOMIQUES."      By  EMILE  WALTER.      I2mO,  $I.OO. 

***"  The  most  telling  statements  of  the  leading  principles  of  the  free  trade  theory  ever 
published,  and  is,  perhaps,  unsurpassed  in  the  happiness  of  its  illustrations."—  The  Nation. 

OASTIAT.—  ESSAYS  ON  POLITICAL  ECONOMY. 
*T     By  FREDERIC  BASTIAT.     nmo,  cloth,  $1.00. 

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1DOGERS.    SOCIAL  ECONOMY, 

•*•-  By  JAMES  E.  THOROLD  ROGERS,  M.  A.,  Tooke  Professor  of 
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ican  Students.  i6mo,  cloth  extra,  75  cents. 

This  little  volume  contains,  within  a  moderate  compass,  a  lucid  and  forcible  explana 
tion  of  the  principles  of  Social  Economy.  The  nature  of  labor,  property,  money  and  cap 
ital,  the  work  of  governments,  the  character  of  business,  the  relations  of  men  with  each 
other,  are  clearly  and  comprehensively  set  forth  in  such  a  way  that  the  instruction  can  be 
understood  by  the  youngest  pupils,  while  full  of  interest  and  value  for  older  readers. 

"We  cannot  too  highly  commend  this  work  for  teachers,  students  and  the  general 
public."—  American  Athenceum. 


METHOD  OF  LEARNING  TO   DRAW  FROM 
>T    MEMORY, 
By  MADAME  E.  CAVE.     From  4th  Parisian  Edition.     I2mo,  cloth,  $1.00. 

*,!,*"  This  is  the  ONLY  METHOD  OF  DRAWING  WHICH  KB  ALLY  TEACHES  ANYTHING.  Mme. 
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of  Art."—  Extract  from  along  review  in  the  "Bevue  des  Deux  Mondes,"  written  by 
DELACROIX. 


METHOD  OF  TEACHING  COLOR. 
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imously  adopted,  indorsing  and  approving  the  work.  The  Minister  thereupon,  by  a  special 
decree,  authorized  the  use  of  it  in  the  French  normal  schools. 

T)ELLEGRIN.—  PERSPECTIVE  :  THE  THEORY  AND  PRAC- 
•^  TICE  OF  LINEAR  PERSPECTIVE,  applied  to  Landscapes, 
Interiors,  and  the  Figure,  for  the  use  of  Artists,  Art-Students,  &c.  By  V. 
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chart,  $l.oo. 

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1T\AVIES.—  MICROSCOPIC  OBJECTS. 

•*^     THE    PREPARATION-  AND     MOUNTING    OF    MICROSCOPIC 

OBJECTS.    By  THOMAS  DAVIES.    i2mo,  cloth,  $1.25. 

"No  on»  who  owns  a  Microscope  can  afford  to  be  without  this  valuable  Manual."—  Toledo 
Blade. 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S-  SONS., 

Fourth  Avenue  and  Twenty-third  Street* 


IN    COURSE    OF    PUBLICATION. 


Pntnam's  iementary  and  Advanced  Science  Series, 

Adapted  to  the  requirements  of  Students  in  Science  and  Art  Classes ;  and 
HigJier  and  Middle  Class  Schools. 

ELEMENTARY   SERIES. 
Printed  uniformly  in  ibmo,  fully  Illustrated,  cloth  extra, price,  75  cents  each. 

1.  PRACTICAL    PLANE    AND    SOLID    GEOMETRY.     By    II. 

Angel,  Islington  Scienee  School,  London. 

2.  MACHINE     CONSTRUCTION     AND     DRAWING.      By    E. 

Tomkins,  Queen's  College,  Liverpool. 
3A  BUILDING    CONSTRUCTION— STONE,    BRICK    AND    SLATE 

WORK.     By  R.  S.  Burn,  C.E.,  Manchester. 
SB  BUILDING  CONSTRUCTION— TIMBER  AND  IRON  WORK.    By 

R.  S.  Burn,  C.E.,  Manchester. 

4.  NAVAL  ARCHITECTURE— SHIPBUILDING  AND  LAYING  OFF. 

By  S.  J.  P.  Thearle,  F.R.S.N.A.,  London. 

5.  PURE    MATHEMATICS.     By   Lewis  Sergeant,   B.A.,   (Camb.,) 

London. 

6.  THEORETICAL  MECHANICS.     By  William  Rossiter,  F.R.A.S., 

F.C.S.,  London. 

7.  APPLIED     MECHANICS.       By    William    Rossiter,     F.R.A.S., 

London. 

8.  ACOUSTICS,  LIGHT   AND   HEAT.    By  William  Lees,  A.M., 

Lecturer  on  Physics,  Edinburgh. 

9.  MAGNETISM  AND  ELECTRICITY.     By  John  Angell,  Senior 

Science  Master,  Grammar  School,  Manchester. 

10.  INORGANIC  CHEMISTRY.     By  Dr.  W.  B.  Kemshead,  F.R.A.S., 

Dulwich  College,  London. 

11.  ORGANIC  CHEMISTRY.     By  W.  Marshall  Watts,  D.Sc.,  (Lond.,) 

Grammar  School,  Giggleswick. 

12.  GEOLOGY.     By.  W.  S.  Davis,  LL.D.,  Derby. 

13.  MINERALOGY.     By  J.  H.  Collins,  F.G.S.,  Royal  Cornwall  Poly 

technic  Society,  Falmouth. 

14.  ANIMAL    PHYSIOLOGY.      By    John    Angell,    Senior    Science 

Master,  Grammar  School,  Manchester. 

15.  ZOOLOGY.     By    M.    Harbison,    Head-Master    Model     Schools, 

Newtonards. 

16.  VEGETABLE   ANATOMY   AND   PHYSIOLOGY.     By  J.    II. 

Balfour,  M.D.,  Edinburgh  University. 

17.  SYSTEMATIC  AND  ECONOMIC  BOTANY.     By  J.  H.  Balfour, 

M.D.,  Edinburgh  University. 

19.  METALLURGY.     By  John  Mayer,  F.C.S.,  Glasgow. 

20.  NAVIGATION.     By  Henry  Evers,  LL.D.,  Plymouth. 

21.  NAUTICAL  ASTRONOMY.     By  Henry  Evers,  LL.D. 

22A STEAM  AND  THE  STEAM  ENGINE— LAND  AND   MARINF, 

By  Henry  Evers,  LL.D.,  Plymouth. 
22B  STEAM    AND    STEAM    ENGINE— LOCOMOTIVE.    By    Henry 

Evers,  LL.D.,  Plymouth. 

23.  PHYSICAL  GEOGRAPHY.     By  John  Macturk,  F.R.G.S. 

24.  PRACTICAL  CHEMISTRY.     By  John  Howard,  London. 

25.  ASTRONOMY.     By  J.  J.  Plummer,  Observatory,  Durham. 


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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 
BERKELEY 

Return  to  desk  from  which  borrowed. 
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MAR  4  -  1967 


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